


Mother of Sorrows

by UltraVioletSoul



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Classic Vergil, Eventual Smut, F/M, Reader Insert, Slow Burn, Vergil is Nero's father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraVioletSoul/pseuds/UltraVioletSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the daughter of one of the most wealthy families in Fortuna, you were supposed to live the life that had been planned out for you. However, the arrival of a mysterious young man from overseas disrupts your relatively peaceful existence and, after an uncanny encounter with the stranger, you find yourself dealing with a situation you couldn't have possibly foreseen. </p>
<p>[[ Vergil x F!Reader ]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I know I shouldn't be posting a new story but I had to get this out of my mind for once. I am writing this fic with the invaluable help and support of my friend Lucía, who has collaborated with me endlessly throughout many of my other works reading my headcanons and sharing her own with me. Had it not been for her, I would have discarded this story long ago and forgot about it. At this point, she has to be my co-author I swear since we've spent a lot of time talking about this fic and are still planning it. 
> 
> I had abandoned the fandom, actually, but Lucía has made me interested in Vergil as of late. I don't even know how it began but I am regretting and not regretting this at the same time because I'm torn between "YES Vergil!" and "gdi Vergil!" if that makes any sense.
> 
> This is still a work in progress, of course, and it's been a very long time ever since I wrote something for DMC. The title was inspired for the most part by Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, an hymn to the Lady of Sorrows, specifically Stabat Mater Dolorosa, which is a beautiful and inspiring piece. So, without further ado, on with the chapter and I hope you enjoy c:
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Disclaimer:**
> 
> I do not own Devil May Cry or its characters. They all belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement intended. All I'm trying to do is provide entertainment to the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:**
> 
> Unbetaed. Work in progress. English is not my first language. OCs.
> 
>  

**Prologue**

A soft otherworldly chant echoes within the halls of Fortuna Castle, and the last rays of the sun slip through the horizon before the black veil of darkness shrouds the sky. Night has fallen with the first snow of winter, and there is a somber foreshadowing in the woeful melody that drifts in the air.

Many of the clerics are reunited in the grand hall, dressed in ceremonial purple garments, and they pray on their knees to their Savior— the lord of justice and mercy. They plead for a soul at her deathbed, an old woman who has been living on borrowed time but now her time to depart from this world has come. In her chambers she lies with eyes closed, surrendered to her fate as though she has nothing to fear even now. It's almost appeasing to see her so at peace and, for a moment, Kyrie doesn't dare break the solemn silence that has settled in the lavish bedroom— the one that had once belonged to Sparda himself, according to old tales— as ministers around her recite mantras in Latin in preparation for the imminent journey.

They have brought Kyrie here so suddenly and she still doesn't understand why the Holy Mother would want to see her, of all people. Certainly, she's a pretty adept songstress and musician who has been hired by the congregation on several opportunities, given her talent to sing and musical skills, but she doesn't see a reason why her presence would be specifically required now. Still, she didn't question the Holy Knights when they went looking for her at her dwelling, before sunset, and broke the news that Her Holiness was dying.

Though Nero had been concerned for his wife's safety and offered to accompany her, she simply assured him that everything would be fine and that there was nothing to fear. With the reputation her husband has made for himself as a fearless and capable devil hunter, who has defeated countless enemies throughout his life, Kyrie doubted anyone would dare touch their family at this point. Also, despite people's initial caginess, the white-haired man had become something like a local hero in Fortuna and there were lots of stories on how he defeated the Heretic Pope and his False Savior many years ago. It was true he had some help, but to her it was clear that this was no mere feat any person could ever hope to achieve.

She understood Nero's distrust, of course, and the reasons why he still had his doubts about their religious leaders, even after the reform that took place in the aftermath of the Tribulation. But it was only an act of piety to fulfill the dying wish of a woman who had done nothing but good to the people of Fortuna when everything seemed lost. Kyrie couldn't ignore such a serious request, much any less when the Knight Captain dropped to one knee and implored for her grace since she'd taken too long to provide an answer, no doubt overcome with surprise. With a promise to see Her Holiness, the knights waited for her outside and she prepared to leave, unable to answer her children's endless questions while hoping to get some answers herself.

Kyrie has never been to this place before though Nero had given her some details of the castle years ago, when he fought against the forces of evil. Those memories still bring pain to her heart, after so many years, and she wishes she could forget those dark days when the world seemed to be close to an end. Younger generations don't know of the horrors their elders had to endure then and, by the grace of the Savior, they'll never have to experience the grief that comes with destruction and death.

After the immeasurable suffering that the Heretic Pope had caused, many people had resented the Order of the Sword and even she had been hesitant to return to the faith, still in grief over the death of her elder brother Credo. The beginnings of the reformed order were difficult at best in a time of crisis and endless conflict at the conclave, when Fortuna was being overcome by chaos and terror. People were trying to survive day by day and the threat of demons still remained. Nero tried to keep them at bay to the best of his abilities but more hands were severely needed. Many of the Holy Knights had died during the fight; those who lingered faced a serious stigma due to their past serving Sanctus, and their demonic nature that presented a danger too. It had been a risky move but there hadn't been many options left in the face of an onslaught of invaders that hurt innocent people.

They were men of honor, however, and sought to expiate for the wrong they'd done. Their greatest flaw had been to serve without question but, after an inquisitor was appointed and extensive investigation shed light on the matter, it was decided that they were clear of guilt given that they and their fallen comrades had fought to protect the citizens. Sanctus and his henchmen used them and discarded them as though their lives meant nothing, feeding them lies to manipulate them to do their bidding. Credo was a clear example of that. More importantly, Sparda himself was a demon that fought against his own race for the sake of mankind so it would have been a disservice to condemn those knights just for what they'd been forced to become. The ceremony of ascension was abolished, nonetheless, for all it stood in the past and the torture the knights had been put through to acquire demonic powers. Those who hadn't been strong of body and mind had died because of it, so needless to say it was a practiced that had to end.

It had been a herculean task the one the Holy Mother faced to rebuild Fortuna from shambles but, unbelievably, it was restored and prospered under her administration. When Sanctus was killed and there was no one to lead, it was difficult to find worthy candidates to wear the papal crown. Seeing as most of the men of the clergy had perished or had been influenced by Sanctus, one way or the other— which posed a risk—, and the knights had turned into demons, something unexpected took place. The conclave for the first time turned to the order of nuns that had been ignored for many years for the most part, due to the former Mother Superior's disagreements with Sanctus, when they remembered that the only requirement to occupy the post was to be a practitioner of the faith. As it was, technically anyone could be Pope, or Popess, but only men had been chosen…

Until now.

Kyrie removes the hood from her ginger head, which has become streaked with locks of silver over the years, and the young captain that accompanies her approaches the bed with a solemn disposition. He salutes the Holy Mother and bows ever so slightly to whisper something in the old woman's ear— more likely announcing her arrival. As he steps away, awaiting further instructions, the Holy Mother open her eyes, their color faded, and she turns to look at the songstress with a gentle smile.

"Dear Kyrie, you have come to see me after all… thank you," the woman rasps with a weakened but kind voice, and Kyrie feels a tug at her heart when her wrinkled hand reaches out to her.

"Your Holiness," she says as she approaches the bed and drops with difficulty to one knee, holding the hand to her temple as her hazel eyes look down. The years have taken their toll on her body, no doubt, and Kyrie doesn't feel like a young girl anymore.

She stays in that position for a few minutes, unsure of what to do as the Popess begins to dismiss the rest of the people in the room. By the time Kyrie realizes what's happening, there is no one else in sight and it's only her who remains in attendance of the Most Holy, much to her bewilderment.

"Please, arise. There is no need for such formalities between us. Call me by my name, like you used to when you were a little girl. Do you remember?"

With a warm smile, Kyrie nods and gets to her feet. "Sister (Name)."

"Ah, it feels like ages have passed since the last time I heard that name." You sigh with contentment, a look of nostalgia settling in your gaze. It's not a strange statement the one you've made, for your name had been changed to that of Gratia upon your ascension as pontiff several decades ago. "But where are my manners? Please, have a seat."

"You have called and here I am. Is there anything I can do for you?" Her words are tentative, but when she sees the pleased expression on your elder features, Kyrie grows at ease as she takes a seat in one of the armchairs conveniently placed nearby.

"I can see the years have not dulled the shine in your eyes, despite all the hardships you have endured. To me it feels as if it was yesterday when you were playing in the backyard of the children's home with Nero. Now look at you; the little girl has become a woman blessed with virtue, a loving family, and still many years ahead of her life." There is a melancholic smile on the your lips and you divert your eyes to the fireplace, at the flames crackling with steadiness. "When your time comes, there will be no regrets for you…" Although Kyrie doesn't understand very well what those words mean, she is expectant all the same. "I am sure you find it surprising that I have summoned you at my last hour. To tell the truth, I will depart this world soon. I can feel it."

"I wish it wouldn't have to be this way." An unwanted sob escapes her lips and Kyrie finds herself lamenting your imminent demise, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"Do not fear, my dear. Death is only… another beginning," you breathe with a gentle smile. "I find comfort knowing that I will go back to the arms of the Savior."

"How can we not mourn for you, the one who brought peace and order after the darkness? You, our light. Who will guide us when you're gone?"

"You are too kind to me, but you need not worry about tomorrow; I have made arrangements and Fortuna will be in good hands. As for me, I am nothing but a light that fades into oblivion. This earthly body is tired and sick and only wishes to rest for eternity. However, my reason to request your presence is not to cause any more grief than you are already in."

"Then what is it that you need from me? Anything that you wish, if it is in my power, I'll do my best to grant," Kyrie urges, uncertainty and uneasiness growing in the pit of her stomach.

"I only ask you to listen and try to understand— to look at me as a woman made of flesh and bones, a human being, and not the Holy Mother everyone believes me to be. Will you be so kind so as to do that for me?" Kyrie is shocked to hear your voice crack, as though sorrow is shaking you to the very core suddenly, and wonders what torments you so. In an attempt to provide comfort, she takes your hand between hers and leans closer, nodding as she swallows the knot in her throat. "There is a secret I have kept for many years and it has been the cause of both my joy and endless suffering. I thought I could endure until my last breath, but now that my time has come I can no longer find the strength to be silent about it. Despite my better judgment, deep down I do not wish to die with this weight that lies heavy on my heart and the pain of unfulfilled dreams. I have committed a sin too great and though I know I do not deserve forgiveness, I still hope he will find it in his heart to pardon my faults one day."

"What… what do you mean?"

"Listen to me, Kyrie. Listen carefully to my words because I am speaking truth." For the first time, she sees fear in those stern eyes— the ache and despair swelling in them as you clutch her hand. "Your husband, your descendants… the blood of the Savior runs in their veins."

For a moment she is afraid to speak. Afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Her jaw drops while she blinks in disbelief and awe, unable to recover from her stupor. Nero and their children… descendants of Sparda? How is that even possible? It cannot be… but then again, Nero's powers, his might. She had seen it when he defeated Sanctus, when he destroyed the False Savior.

And there was Dante…

She might have had her suspicions seeing as Nero was his spitting image, but never had she imagined that it could actually be true! If that's the case, then how can you know about her husband's ancestry when the matter was a mystery even to her, his own wife? No one knew where Nero came from, or who his parents were for that matter. Unlike most children at the orphanage, who had lost their families to demon attacks, he was a newborn left at the gates of the shelter in the dead of a cold night, wrapped in a thick black blanket.

Kyrie and her parents usually visited the children's home because they firmly believed in helping those who were most vulnerable, like Sparda did, and they met Nero. She'd quickly befriended him and they used to play together when she dropped by. Since they were close, it was impossible for her not to notice how cruel other kids were to him and mocked him for not knowing who his parents were. On several occasions she'd witnessed those spiteful episodes when she was with him, and heard them say that his mother must have been a prostitute that abandoned him. She'd been only a child back then, so Kyrie didn't understand what they meant and didn't have the courage to ask by the aggravated look in Nero's eyes.

Years later, she learned why those words hurt him so much. Her husband was most likely the son of an illegitimate union, which was a scandalous matter. Still, prostitution wasn't unheard of in Fortuna and more often than not this was the usual motive why children were forsaken at orphanages— something that made Nero stand out like a sore thumb, despite the fact he wasn't the first child born out of wedlock neither would he be the last. But even if by any chance they found about his biological parents, he'd said he wouldn't even be bothered to know who they were. They had forgotten about him so he would do the same.

"How would you know about that?" How can you be so sure of your allegations and, more importantly, why are you so convinced of them? That's a kind of certainty only a mother would show when it comes to her child—

At those thoughts, Kyrie covers her mouth with a hand and muffles a brusque gasp that leaves her breathless. Impossible, she thinks and shakes her head, watching as tears stain your wrinkled face and you close your eyes with a pained sigh. Kyrie knows it in her heart, even before the words leave those trembling lips, that it's you… you are the one who carried Nero in your womb and brought him into this world.

It happened many decades ago, when a foreign white-haired man appeared in the island. And from the moment you and him crossed paths, life could never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what can I say? I admit I wasn’t too keen on the idea of Nero being Vergil’s son years ago. Then I saw that picture from the artbook which states that he's Nero's father, and I was speechless to say the least (though I'm not sure if it's canon or not). Either way, I think in time I accepted it and it also gave me the excuse to write a reader insert for him, in hopes to do something decent.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are appreciated!


	2. How It All Began

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it took me quite a while to get this chapter done. Sorry for the delay… I’m so embarrassed, I swear, but here it is!
> 
> I have some things planned for this fic, and I think it'll be fun to explore a relationship with Vergil as the story progresses. Of course, I promise to keep him in character to the best of my abilities so he doesn't end up being all lovey-dovey out of nowhere. Personally, that's not how I picture him to be with Nero's mom but it's only my opinion. Just in case you're wondering, nope, this story isn't about the woman in red so, nope, you're not the woman in red.
> 
> This chapter is quite long, about 8,300 words without the author's note. I had to establish the setting, of course, and the characters. So well, there's quite a lot to read...
> 
> Also, I want to express my gratitude to my best friends Lucía and Alexandra. They have helped me endlessly with the writing process reading my drafts, sharing headcanons, and making beautiful fanart for this story. I have no words to convey my appreciation for all the support they give me. Thank you for everything!
> 
> And thanks to the readers for the comments and kudos!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. OCs. English is not my first language.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Playlist for the fic can be found [[HERE]](http://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3EbNfBbw9GnSv5bHHBogm7x2rh_5n593)  
> 

  
**Chapter I:** _"How It All Began"_  


__

__

_Where to begin?_

_As simple as that question may appear to be, in all honesty, I was never certain where it all started. Was it when I met him? Was it when I lost my good judgment in favor of my youthful idle fancies? Was it when I kissed him for the first time, knowing that I was walking along a thin wire and there would be no one to stop my fall? Or perhaps when we gave in to the passions lovers share in privacy and, in my own naivety, I believed that he was mine as I was his?_

_Where to begin…? I would not know the answer to that. I do know that the end of my life as I knew it began the day I discovered the truth that would forever change my existence. By then he, who never swore eternal love to me, was gone and I was left alone to deal with the consequences of our sporadic trysts. I have no one to blame but me, however. I brought this fate upon myself, for I had consented and found contentment in the foolish conviction that in the end love would prevail above all things. Despite this knowledge and the affection I still retain for his memory, I held resentment against him for a long time and my soul was poisoned with anger at the thought of what could have been had he desisted to pursue the madness that would become his downfall. Had he stayed, had he known, all would have been different— or that was what I wanted to believe, though deep down I always wondered if anything would have changed. It is a mystery that, maybe, will remain unsolved._

_Throughout the years, I still remember him clearly… too well for my own comfort or peace. Those reminiscences are a part of my life I cannot surrender, even to this day. If I were to forget the sweet and the bitter, the joy and sorrows that I have been through— if I were to cast them into oblivion— then I would not be me anymore. I would not be telling this story in hopes of reliving the experiences that have shaped me into the person I am; neither would I seek release from the prison that has held me captive for so long._

_I am getting ahead of myself, however. Perhaps it would be wiser to say, for the sake of simplicity, that the events that changed my life began when I was a young girl living in an island surrounded by the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea._

_It happened some time before the ascension of Sanctus, the Heretic and Bringer of Destruction. Back then, Solemnis the Pious had been the head of the Order of the Sword— a priest who came from a humble family and rose to greatness as Holy Father of our faith. Unfortunately, the pale shadow of death had settled down upon him all too soon, just a decade after his crowning, in the form of an illness that had no apparent cure. During his last years, his constitution had become so frail that he hardly ever left Fortuna Castle anymore and had stopped officiating major liturgical celebrations. It was, probably, a matter of public knowledge that the Vicar's health was in decline, despite the secrecy shrouding the matter, and there were even rumors that an election would be taking place soon at the basilica to choose his successor, in the imminent case he passed away._

_But all this transpired during a time when the young me was not part of the convoluted politics of Fortuna, and neither did I have any wish to be involved in their schemes. This is not to say I did not feel concern at the news regarding the pontiff's well-being, and his looming departure, of course. After all, he had been a good man— following the sacred teachings of the Savior and caring for those in need—, so it was a pity to think that his days were numbered._

_Those days I was not known as Gratia the First, neither did I ever imagine I would one day bear this immense responsibility on my shoulders— the hopes and dreams of so many, as well as their uncertainties and fears. Those days life was less complicated for me as (Name), the daughter of a prominent family that had nurtured good relations with the Order of the Sword._

_The Serafini had always been faithful devotees to the beliefs of the Order, as well as one of the most influential wealthy houses in Fortuna. Part of our amassed riches had come from the exploitation of natural resources in Lamina Peak and Ferrum Hills, giving rise to a small but effective metallurgical industry in the island. However, we were more notably known as an important partner and founder of the Bank of the Order, which provided financial support and stability to the whole economy of the community. As it has been for centuries, the activity in the region was focused for the most part in agriculture and fishing, but other lines of work had also seen major development throughout the years with careful investment such as textile manufacturing, shipbuilding, construction, and miscellaneous businesses._

_High ranking members and benefactors of the organization, we had occupied a place of power in the aristocracy during several generations. One of these affiliates was the baroness Agnese della Scala Serafini—who, I must admit with regret, was my mother. After the death of my father, when I was a child, she took over the family and never married again. Her decision did not suppose an act of devotion to the memory of her deceased husband, but that is a matter that bears little relevance to my account for the time being._

_Ever since I had knowledge and awareness, Agnese had not been the most amorous mother I could have hoped for but it is not something I hold against her, strange as that may be. Surely, Agnese had those rare moments but, overall, she had never been very demonstrative of her love— if she felt any for me, to begin with. That was only a kind of warmth I found in my old nanny Giovanna— or Nanna, as I affectionately used to call her— who had cared for me ever since I was born. Though I had grown into a young lady, I still remembered the elder woman with fondness and sought her comfort every now and then. I still do, in spite of her mistakes and the pain she has caused me._

_Yet again, I must strive not to make haste into reflections that will carry no meaning until later._

_My mother, or rather the woman whom I once called mother, was an adamant believer of the faith and followed the mandates of the Order near to the point of obsession. This caused our relationship to be… somewhat distant and strained. It was almost smothering the way she tried to control every aspect of my life from the way I dressed, to whom I was allowed to speak, and the places I was allowed to go. As a matter of fact, she refused to let me out of the house for another reason that did not involve attending mass and worshiping the god that had saved mankind. My only hope to see the world beyond the gates of the Serafini estate turned out to be a trip to the church with an escort— usually Nanna— and, even after that, I was not permitted to linger in town for longer than necessary. It appeared that a lady of 'virtuous upbringing' could not be parading herself in the streets like merchandise to anyone, so my days were mainly spent in the safety of a gilded cage._

_For a long time, I did not question motives and I even thought this was normal behavior in all mothers. Or that was until I learned from other girls my age, cousins or daughters of other acquaintances, that this was not the case. When I dared ask Agnese why they were given a bit more freedom to do as they pleased, whilst I remained locked away in my own house, she only said that everything she did was for my own protection. The outside world was not the place of beauty and peace I believed it to be, so I had to trust the heart of a mother to know what was best for her daughter._

_She talked down to me, as though I was oblivious to the danger that everyone had faced in this island during generations._

_Demons that only wished to harm humans had always been a matter of concern to the general public, seeing as nobody was exempt of this hazard. To this effect, the Holy Knights had been instituted a long time ago to deal with such creatures. Unlike the regular Knights of the Order, who were responsible for law enforcement, the Holy Knights were the elite chosen and trained to become capable devil hunters. The clergy claimed that Sparda himself had appointed these men, and taught them many secrets to protect Fortuna from his own race, which is not a total fabrication as I came to learn._

_The beasts that preyed on the population were commonly known as low level demons. They managed to cross through 'rifts' that still lingered in the region, even many centuries after Sparda had sealed the Hell Gate that stood at the heart of the city. The attacks were sporadic and did not arouse any serious suspicions about an invasion but, despite the allegedly weak nature of these demons—compared with much stronger ones, at least—, they still presented a clear threat to the community. So far no high level demon had made it to the human world and, for the sake of everyone, I had hoped it stayed that way since I had no wish to know what it would be like to find myself at the mercy of one._

_It was derisory for Agnese to believe that being enclosed within these walls would protect us from evil, however. We were as vulnerable in our own house as if we were wandering the streets in the dead of the night. No one was safe if a demon decided to appear all of a sudden and wreak havoc, but people did not live confined out of fear at what would happen. In a way, it was curious to see how strong their beliefs were and how much they trusted the Order and the Savior to keep the safe. Everyone went on their daily routines, without fear or concerns. They roamed the city and were free to come and go as they pleased, do what they wanted, so long as they did not hurt others. It made me wonder what it felt like, to possess the liberty to choose or the illusion of free-will. How thrilling it must have been… planning even the most mundane of things._

_But I suppose I was too naïve._

_Considering I was the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Fortuna, one would have guessed that my position would have made it easier to obtain anything I desired but that was not the case for me. The truth was my life had been planned out by other people, without a regard for my opinion or wishes, and that was not a very comforting thought. I had never complained about it or attempted to rebel against Agneses's authority, though, for I believed she only worried about my welfare. In spite of all her flaws and lack of understanding when it came to how I felt, I still held love for her and often contemplated on how she, without a doubt, had to go through the same situation when she was younger._

_Several tutors schooled me at home, as was the custom for a young woman of the upper classes, and they were strict educators with me. History, literature, languages, rhetoric, religion, mathematics, music, and other arts, were some of my areas of learning before I claimed to hear the Savior's calling and consecrated my life to him in a convent. Though I had always been encouraged to cultivate my mind, it was only under the terms my family and tutors thought was befitting and nothing which could endanger the propriety or morality that defined my worth as a human being. After all, I was expected to marry a man from one of the families that belonged to the same circle as mine, so an improper comportment would have been more than undesirable for a lady of my standing._

_Nanna had always said that any man would covet to take my hand in marriage, but that is a notion I find most ironic whenever I recall her words. The only man I long for would have probably made a face of disgust at the idea of sharing a life together, and argued that he would never need someone like me. Still, I always said to myself that in a better world, maybe somewhere in a remote part of his mind— or seemingly non-existent heart— he might have preserved something akin to love for me, no matter how small it was…_

* * *

"Miss?" Tearing your gaze away from the hands clasped on your lap, you suddenly found yourself disturbed from your daydream at the sound of a gentle voice. Despite it had come from behind, your eyes traveled to the mirror of the vanity you were seated at and promptly met the expectant expression of a girl a few years older than you. "I already finished with your hair. Is this to your liking?"

Compelled by those words, you inspected the work on your hair with a bit of a lukewarm disposition. It wasn't the simple coiffure which was the cause of your evident disinterest, neither did you want to come across as uncaring to the poor maid, but the fact you were required to attend yet another of your mother's parties wasn't something that instilled thrill in you. Truth be told, you'd never been a good conversationalist and your socializing skills weren't up to par with those of Agnese, who never seemed to run out of topics to talk about or never became tired of being around people. Such pleasantries were not your forte, although you were grateful that all the focus was on her for the most part. She always enjoyed being the center of attention and knew how to deal with her cohort, something you weren't used to.

"Yes. Thanks, Ofelia," you replied with a lackluster smile, observing your reflection and those familiar eyes that regarded you with indifference amid parted bangs.

You were still in your undergarments but your apparel had been prepared for your use already. It consisted in a creamy high-collar dress with long sleeves, seeing as that was the only kind of clothes Agnese allowed you to have in your wardrobe. To avoid the painful monotony in shades, it was complemented by a long silk jacket of pink brocade with a silver clasp at the front. Any other more revealing attire would be inappropriate or indecent at your age, your mother claimed, and she didn't want you flashing a patch of bare shoulder or collarbone— despite the fact she usually wore dresses that showed off her feminine attributes to those around her.

You weren't eager to do the same; still, you couldn't help but wonder why you were subjected to different standards. However, what you really meant to ask was why you weren't given a choice in anything, although at the time you didn't realize your reproach implicated more. Your dear nanny had been a bit reticent in explaining why at first but, when she did, it all seemed to come down to the ingenuousness inherent to your age. Agnese was an older woman, and she knew the effects that her female nature had on people— knew how to use her charm to sway their hearts with just the right look or smile. Apparently, you were still young and inexperienced to even understand such matters, oblivious to your own innocent allure— or that was how Nanna worded it, at least. From what you understood, it was clear Agnese feared you'd draw the attentions and passions of someone so soon. Allowing that to happen would be disastrous, the beginning of endless calamity and suffering, if the man who dared approach wasn't worthy of her daughter— which was something for her to decide, of course.

Still, implying that you'd fall for just about anyone who said sweet-nothings to you was a bit… insulting. You weren't a starving dog who found contentment with a few bones! You knew you place and expected others to know theirs, too. Did she believe that you'd forget all decorum and shamelessly pursue the affections of some man without her knowledge and approval? That was preposterous, to say the least. How could you even do that if you weren't allowed to go outside? Even talking to your male cousins was awkward enough, whenever they asked you to dance with them. You couldn't even imagine how much of a bother would be to invest time in a futile chase.

Some of them were of marriageable age, a fact that didn't escape Agnese's notice, and often visited with their families during the parties hosted in your house. You usually spent time with their sisters, as you were supposed to do. Of course, unlike you, these young girls were allowed to flaunt their bare shoulders and sometimes their... generous cleavage. They also enjoyed flirting with the handsome officers of the Order of Knights, when no one was watching. The thrill of youth was something that made people toss caution to the wind, and you feared that one day they'd get in trouble for their behavior though they didn't share your concerns. On your part, you strove to remain unseen all throughout the celebrations all the while, but that couldn't be helped when several guests— many of them young men— seemed to seek your company, much to your mother's consternation.

It hadn't been until some years ago that you were formally introduced to society, during a big feast held in your honor to commemorate your birthday. By society, it meant that mainly those belonging to the aristocracy of Fortuna were invited, though on many occasions there had been those artists Agnese was so fond of. As a woman with a deep love for arts, especially those in which she had been the source of inspiration, she was the patron of many painters, sculptors and musicians, promoting their works. For these young men, receiving the favors of the baroness was a golden opportunity so it was only natural that they'd do their utmost to please her every caprice. She was accustomed to this sort of behavior from everyone, no doubt, and you could tell that it was something that delighted her beyond belief— to have people at her beckon and whim— though given her status it wasn't something strange.

As her daughter, you knew those quirks very well and, while you loved her, sometimes you believed she behaved like a spoiled child despite her mature age. She was the kind of woman that had to get what she wanted, when she wanted it, or else there would be consequences.

Making your way downstairs, towards the throng of people reunited in the ballroom, you began to grimace at the persistent discomfort around your torso. One would imagine that you would have been used to corsets, after many years wearing them, but in all honesty you still loathed them since day one. Seriously, it had to be detrimental to one's health wearing such a tight fit that made it hard to breathe! It made you all the more eager for this evening to be over soon, so you could bask in the freedom and comfort of a nightgown before preparing for another day. Alas, you had to endure with a smile on your face until then.

Of course your intention wasn't to make a grand entrance. The attentions you had received during your last birthday had proved to be too much, so you preferred to have a little peace if possible. While you were aware that it was in your best interests to get accustomed to such civilities sooner than later, since you'd be the hostess of many gatherings in the future, you still found it to be tiresome. Why did Agnese think it was amusing to see the same faces all the time, either way? Her desire to show off her wealth, her high status and power, to be sought and adulated by others, was something you couldn't understand but it wasn't your place to judge her actions.

Despite your attempts to remain unnoticed, you felt many eyes trained on you as soon as you set foot in the room and your stomach churned. Before you knew it, you found yourself greeted by people at every step, especially those elder relatives and their sons... and grandsons. By then, you almost regretted not listening to Nanna's advice. She had felt unwell that day— much to your concern and discontent—, so you had decided to go alone, to spare her the distress of trailing after you everywhere, despite her insistence not to. You wish you'd done what you were told, but you didn't feel comfortable asking other people to look after you as if you were a little kid.

After brief salutations and other courtesies to satisfy the required etiquette, you finally found refuge in aunt Catarina—your father's sister— and her daughters. The blonde woman accompanied the girls with their chaperon, an old lady with a rather acrimonious face, who kept a vigilant eye on her charges. Your cousins didn't look too excited, however, probably because as of late their mother did not let them out of her sight for a minute. After the 'unfortunate' association of one of her daughters with a knight of low rank, and the unsavory speculations that spread when your cousin ran away one night, Catarina didn't want to risk any further damage done to her family's name so she kept a close eye on her other children.

Neither Agnese nor your aunt, or daughters, had given you any details on the matter but Nanna told you all you needed to know. It seemed that Gilda had become intimate with her beloved, which introduced the dreary possibility of a bastard child— in addition to Gilda's threats to commit suicide if your aunt dared hurt the man in any way. Left with no choice but agree to this union, Catarina begged her sister to make arrangements so her future son-in-law would be appointed to a position in the Order of Knights, worthy of their family, before the unexpected wedding took place. From what you could tell, this certainly wasn't the most ideal way to get a husband, but at least Gilda seemed to be happy with her choice and her newborn son.

"Where is Giovanna?" Catarina asked with a frown, waving her fan about so the cool wind blew on her rosy face. Despite the large windows being open wide to let fresh air in, the Fortunian summer was being unkind that year.

"She is ill today. I thought some rest would benefit her," was your answer as you eyed the displeased expression of your cousins, who stood with arms crossed by their mother's side. "I'll be fine without her for a day."

"Still, you should have chosen someone else to escort you this evening. An unmarried girl, like you, should never be alone."

Now she was trying to police your actions? Having your mother do so was enough, but that your aunt questioned your propriety and upbringing was something you found in bad taste. You weren't like Gilda and she shouldn't be so fast to criticize! At her words, you felt a little vexed on the inside though you maintained your cordial manners, for the sake of an amenable exchange.

"Really, aunt, you worry too much sometimes. What is it so dangerous that I would need to have a chaperon by my side, even in my own house?" you retorted with a small smile. "Besides, we are among friends, aren't we? These people are no strangers to our family. It seems odd to me that you would suddenly entertain such unsympathetic thoughts, as though we should be wary of our own guests."

Catarina flustered slightly and took a deep breath, flapping her fan with even more energy than before. "No. Of course not, my dear! How can you even suggest that I would say something so terrible? I simply thought that you could use some company. Having noted the attention you've drawn upon yourself, however, I would say that indeed you shouldn't be alone… lest one of those pesky boys would try to harass you. Youth has become bolder as of late and lacks the decency that distinguished our older generations. In my days, such impertinence was unthinkable!"

"I have known those pesky boys, who I must remind you are friends and part of our family, by a major or small degree, since I was a child. They wouldn't appreciate that you refer to them with such contempt." You were beginning to think that approaching Catarina had been a bad idea, but it was too late for regrets. It was evident your aunt was still bitter at the choice Gilda had made. While you'd believed a newborn grandson would inspire a change of heart in her, it didn't seem to be the case.

"Dear, _all_ of them are the same and that is something you'll come to learn, eventually. I don't need to remind you that anyone would want to marry into our family, do I?"

"Mother, would you stop it already? The last thing we need is for someone to overhear your delirious self-important prattle. To be honest, it is embarrassing," Leonora, the second eldest of daughters, said through gritted teeth whilst glaring at her mother. "And leave poor (Name) alone. I'm sure it is enough misery that her mother doesn't allow her to put a foot outside this estate for something else other than attending mass."

"Young lady, it is unacceptable that you speak to your mother in such an offensive manner!" the old chaperon chided with a hiss and Leonora huffed in vexation, crossing her arms again.

" _That_ is what I should have done with your sister from the very beginning. Had I been less lenient on her, then she wouldn't have married that penniless, good-for-nothing, excuse of a husband she has," Catarina muttered with derision, closing her fan with a sharp movement of her hand.

"Mother, calm down, please?" Donata, the youngest, pleaded whilst you wished you could disappear to avoid this awkward conversation. Of course Catarina wouldn't be in the mood— she'd hardly been as of late— but you had hoped to exchange some pleasantries at the very least. Oh, well, nobody could reproach you for not trying, but you took this as your cue to leave.

"Dear aunt, of course I appreciate your concern for my well-being," you said, in an effort to appease the woman's temper, never losing the polite tone in your voice. "If I have offended you, somehow, please, accept my apologies. Civilities have never been my forte, I'm afraid, but I'll try my best in future occasions. My mother and I are delighted that you graced us with the pleasure of your company this evening, and we hope the bash is to your liking."

With a smile and a curtsy, you turned around and walked away feeling a bit disheartened.

* * *

It wasn't turning out to be the most thrilling evening, but you supposed it could always be worse.

However, your feet were killing you and that abominable corset you wore still mocked you. The constant socialization made you feel a little out of place and flustered, despite your best efforts to appear amiable to everyone. Honestly, you had a mighty need to crawl under the sheets and stay there until the end of time. Add the accursed heat, which had your body boiling under those clothes, to your list of complaints and you didn't believe you wanted to linger for too long there. It became even more upsetting when you realized you couldn't eat all those delicious refreshments that were being served, since your dress became a little too tight for your liking after a few bites and drinks.

This was unacceptable. Ever since you were a little girl, you'd been required to attend these events. However, back then you were allowed to be a child and didn't have to worry too much about giving the impression of a delicate porcelain doll. At least, until your mother thought it was time you started acting like a proper lady and forced you to leave fun and games aside.

It couldn't be helped, you thought, for one couldn't stay a child forever. It was the natural order of life, to grow old and die. In a way, you feared this assumed truth which everyone came to understand throughout the years— which you'd learned at a very young age, with the loss of your father. Those wounds in your heart had healed, but the fear of losing loved ones still persisted and you supposed that was something everyone experienced in a different degree.

You were worried about Nanna's health. After all, she was a mother to you— the one who had shared your joys and had wiped the tears from your eyes. She had cared for you and still did, so it was natural that you'd feel the same way towards her.

Nanna had been a little fatigued as of late, no doubt a sign of her old age, so you didn't wish for her to exert herself any further. The woman had done enough work in her lifetime, having looked after the baroness and her siblings with proficiency and love— the reason why she was respected and appreciated in your family. When Agnese married the baron of the Serafini family, of course she wanted her old nanny to look after you, her firstborn and only child.

Her absence would be excused, certainly. Still, you wished to know how she was doing and looked for a pretext to get away for a while. No one would notice your brief withdrawal, or so you hoped. Your mother was always the center of attention, and you'd played your part of gracious daughter to the best of your abilities so you believed you deserved some respite.

As you climbed the marble stairs, intent on reaching the wing of the main bedchambers, a strange indistinct movement out of the corner of your eye drew your attention. Coming to an immediate halt, startled by the unexpected intrusion, you gazed at the top of the stairs and frowned at the eerie feeling in your gut.

Did you just hear steps fading into the corridor?

Despite your sudden uneasiness, you quickly dismissed any concerns. Surely it must have been an attendant running an errand, or one of the knights standing guard nearby. Nothing you should be worried about.

The hallway was empty, however, but you thought no more of it. Soon, you reached Nanna's bedroom, which was close to yours, and poked your head in just to find that the woman was fast asleep. She had been reading before dozing off and still had her glasses on. Shaking your head with a smile, you tiptoed towards the bed trying to be as quiet and gentle as you could. With care not to rouse her from her slumber, you slowly took the book from her wrinkled hands and the spectacles from her eyes, setting them on the nightstand by her side. Nanna slept like a log, snoring a bit loud, which was something that you had always found amusing. After pulling the sheets higher to cover her round stomach, you switched the table lamp off and kissed her goodnight.

But you still had no desire to leave.

The gibbous moon shone in the dark blue sky, its soft glow slipping into the room through large windows. With light steps, you made your way to the balcony breathing in the fresh air of the evening before heaving a sigh of contentment. You found yourself growing more at ease as you observed the gardens below, colorful with flowers in bloom, and the peaceful comfort that enveloped your heart made you think there couldn't be anything more beautiful than the silent magnificence of this little world.

Were you too simple-minded, perhaps?

"(Name)?" she called, bringing you out of your youthful reverie all too soon. "What are you doing here?"

Biting your lower lip, you chose not to answer that question knowing that you'd be sent on your way sooner than later. "Go back to sleep, Nanna."

"You should be at the gathering with the others. Did something happen?" Her voice was drowsy and raspy, you noticed while turning around to have a better look at the woman.

"Nothing happened. I just wanted to see how you were faring."

"Ah, and I suppose that sneaking out of the party wasn't part of the plan all along, hm?" Nanna mused with feigned innocence, making you feel somewhat ashamed, but then chuckled. "My sweet child, I know you worry about me but I assure you that tomorrow I'll be as good as new. At least it's not winter so I don't have to suffer from pain in my poor bones, ugh!"

"You know me well, don't you?" Smiling with anxiety, you approached her and recognized the slight frown that formed on her weathered, chubby features.

"Agnese will notice you're missing, and you know how much she dislikes it when that happens. Don't' worry about me. I'll be fine, I promise, and so will you be, little potato."

At that pet name— which you'd found embarrassing ever since you were a little girl, but Nanna totally thought was endearing— you groaned in frustration. "For the umpteenth time, don't call me _that_!"

Your reaction only elicited peals of laughter from her, and you rolled your eyes— though deep down you had always cherished her affectionate demeanor. "Well, if you don't want me to keep treating you like an adorable baby then you would do well to leave now, young lady. And could you please return this book to the library for me?" Nanna nodded to the item next to her and sighed with weariness. "I don't believe I can finish it in this life or the next. It bored me to tears and I fell asleep."

"Or you could read it every time you have difficulty falling asleep," you suggested, taking a hold of the book.

"Hm, I never had any problems with that but I'll keep it in mind," Nanna mumbled, before giving you an expectant look. "What are you waiting for? Off with you now, _shoo_!"

"Yes, sweet dreams," you giggled before leaning towards her so she could kiss your forehead.

"Goodnight, my little sparrow."

* * *

The way back was protracted, since it was a lengthy walk more or less. Nanna was right, though; your mother would get worried if she noticed your absence, so you needed to make haste. If she asked where you'd been, you would make up any excuse to explain your disappearance.

As you passed by the library— one of the many ones in your house— you noticed that the door was ajar. You didn't think much of it, at first; maybe Nanna had forgotten to close it when she fetched the book earlier. However, as you neared, you were taken aback by the strange shifting noises that came from within. In your frantic state, you didn't realize you had stopped breathing and lay flat against the wall, trying to listen better. You still didn't want to assume the worst but you felt your heart skip a beat when your suspicions were confirmed. It was barely audible, but it sounded as though someone were manipulating books in a very impatient manner, flicking through pages almost with carelessness.

_Oh, no_. There was someone inside...

That couldn't be possible. What were they even doing there? The room was too dark to read! Was it a thief? A… ghost? In all honesty, you were getting really scared at this point and, as you peered through the crack of the door into the endless void, you wondered what you should do. Certainly, you couldn't leave without being certain of what was going on so, mustering enough courage to proceed, you set the item in your hands aside and seized a metallic statuette that decorated one of the many tables of the hallway, bracing yourself for a fright... or a fight. Not the wisest choice, but what if someone had truly broken into your house? There could be important documents stored in there for safekeeping, or other precious items. One never knew! Either way, no person should trespass the property of another— that was common knowledge. Such criminal behavior was unacceptable and punishable by law.

So many thoughts crossed your mind and, in your confusion, you tended to do stupid things sometimes. What made you believe it was a good idea confronting a delinquent? It was hard to say but you only realized the absurdity of your actions after you'd pushed the door open and ventured into the unknown. It was then that what little light managed to slip from the corridor revealed a dark large shape, standing next to one of the many bookshelves.

_What in Sparda's name was that thing?_ Could it be a… demon? Oh, you were right all along; your mother was delirious to believe that anyone would be safe here!

This wasn't the end of your inanity, however. With trembling hands, you sought the light switch on the wall and jumped in surprise at what you found— taken aback at such an ordinary sight. It was… a person— seemingly a man, given his broad back and tall height. He wore a hooded cloak over his body, and he appeared to be leafing through pages of a tome without a care for your presence. To be honest, he didn't even look the least bit concerned at being caught!

"W-who are you?" No doubt a ridiculous thing to say, but in your state of mind it was inevitable. He wouldn't try to conceal himself from head to toes if he intended to reveal his identity to others, right? Maybe the most accurate question you could think of was, "what do you want?"

The stranger didn't reply. It gave you the impression he might have not been even aware that you were in the same room as him. He just closed the hardcover book with an audible snap, returned it to the shelf and then drew another.

What was he even doing? Did he seriously come here just to read?

It was true that your manor stored vast and valuable information on various areas, but this was your personal library. If he was merely interested in novels, and other mundane topics pertaining to the fields you studied under the guidance of your tutors, then he would probably be better off at a public library. It would have been less of a hassle for him if he had just applied for a membership but, in any case, this was hardly the moment to be thinking about his own convenience. Only Sparda knew what could this man be doing here and what he was capable of. His mere presence was enough to stir apprehension in your heart, and you didn't think it would be wise to press for more answers given your disadvantageous position.

"You shouldn't be here. Leave or… or I'll—!" Your voice faltered the moment you were aware of the weapon leaning against the shelf, a Japanese sword sheathed in a dark scabbard, and you took a step back with a muffled gasp. He… he was armed. There was no way you could be a match for him (not that you seriously thought you had much chance to begin with) and the fact that you were alone with a dangerous individual— maybe a psychopath!— was making you more frightened as time passed. The situation was unnerving and you had little idea of what to do... or no idea at all.

With a deep growl— he was a man, you were certain of that then— he closed the book and shoved it back in the shelf. This time, however, he didn't bother to pull out another and remained silent for a moment or two whilst you began to retreat quietly, hoping he wouldn't notice. To your misfortune, he finally deigned himself to acknowledge you, throwing a glance over his shoulder before he grabbed the sword in his firm grasp and turned around. You still couldn't see his face well, for the hood obscured most of his features, but you took in the frown on his thin lips and it didn't bode good things for you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the realization that you were the focus of his attention. He made no attempts to hurt you, though you didn't trust him to remain that way for very long. The man seemed to be assessing your persona, judging your strength of character... as if he were deciding whether you were even worth the dust on his shoes. It made you feel small but you couldn't let him know you were intimidated. He was the one committing a wrongdoing here, not you!

An eternity seemed to pass and the more you stared at him, your act of serenity crumbled little by little. When he made another move towards you, however, you lost it and for the first time acted on pure instinct in an attempt to preserve your short life.

_Whack!_

What happened to you? It was hard to tell but, considering the rather bizarre circumstances, you were quite terrified. At that moment, all you could do was watch in horror as the statuette went flying out of your hands, in his direction.

_Oh, sweetest Sparda, Help of the Afflicted_. You had attacked him first, like a savage!

Alas, or as luck would have it, your aim was terrible despite the fact you could have sworn the statuette would hit him right in the face. Instead, it flew past him and collided against the bookcase, before tumbling to the floor with a dull thud. Needless to say, he didn't seem to be impressed by your pitiful attempts at defense, but he had become very aggravated at your actions and you backed away to the door in a rush.

"Guards, there's an intruder here!" you yelled to the top of your lungs, hoping for the life of you that the Savior would protect you from harm. "Please, someone help me!" Even if you tried to run away from him, there would be nowhere to hide. Your only chance was to fight any way you could and make enough noise, so the knights would find you because who knew where they were.

Maybe the racket would scare him, too.

You didn't wish to put Nanna in harm's way, however, so you hoped she wouldn't get here sooner than the knights or else this would end badly for both of you. With a determined purse of your lips, you grabbed the closest item you could find, which turned out to a blue porcelain vase, and threw it at him with all the might in your arms. At that point, you could care less if it was an antiquity that had cost a lot of money, and whether provoking him was the wisest decision. This was probably the most stupid thing you'd ever done in your life, but it was too late to turn back and you were panicked beyond belief.

"Ahh, _help!_ "

He took a casual step to the side to avoid being hit and then grumbled something under his breath. The vase shattered with a loud clatter so you couldn't hear a thing, but it surprised you to see that he had turned his back on you and paced to the window with long strides. Before you could make any sense of his intentions, the stranger had opened the panes wide open and climbed over the frame with a swift jump that had your eyes widening the size of dinner plates.

_Was he going to leap?!_ There were two stories below… and this man was out of his mind!

"Wait a moment, are you insane? You'll kill yourself!" Marvelous; this was just what you needed— the corpse of a suicide victim to liven up this fine evening. This couldn't be happening but, for reasons you were unable to comprehend at that very moment, it was happening and you were becoming desperate. "What do you think you're doing? Stop right there!"

It was already too late. At the sight of what, undoubtedly, had to be an act of downright madness, you could do nothing but muffle a shriek of horror with both hands. He didn't scream or hesitate in his actions for a second, as though his life wasn't a matter that deserved the slightest concern. No, he didn't seem to care at all and let himself fall into the night, his dark cloak fluttering in the wind.

You wished you could move but your body refused to respond. How long had you been standing there? Where was everyone?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the knights rush into the library with swords drawn at long last. They warily inspected the room in search of danger but only you remained, with a pile of shattered porcelain on the floor and a look of fright on your face.

"Miss, we heard the commotion. What happened?" One of them asked, trying to catch his breath, evidently distraught about the whole upheaval you had caused.

"By Sparda's horns, what is going on?" Nanna barged in with a distressed expression and, at the sound of her voice, you finally found the strength to budge running to find shelter in her arms. "My child, what happened? I heard your screams and I tried to get here as soon as I could." She placed her hands on the sides of your face, whilst you struggled to take some deep breaths to calm down your heart hammering in your chest. Or at least you would have, if the stupid corset wasn't so tight. "You're pale and cold!"

You pointed to the open window and babbled with a shaky voice, still in a daze. "Someone… jumped. He... he may be dead!"

Another knight, the youngest one, made his way to the site in question and looked down, before he turned to the others and shook his head. "There is nothing."

It was impossible. There should be a corpse or someone badly hurt! "I do not understand. There was someone here, a man. I swear! He was armed with a sword. For a moment, I thought he would kill me so I tried to defend myself and screamed for help. Then all of a sudden he opened the window and jumped down," you finished your account with a strenuous sigh.

"What was he doing?"

"I'm not sure... He was inspecting some books but I don't know what he was looking for. It seemed he wasn't successful in his endeavors, though." Fearing they wouldn't believe your words, you chose to omit the detail that he was reading books in complete darkness. You could barely give credit to your own eyes.

"Did you see his face? Can you provide a description?"

"No, I couldn't because he wore a hooded cloak." This habit of people wearing hoods had to be an obstacle during investigations. How could they even identify felons?

"In that case, the only thing we can do is report this situation to the captain immediately. A party will scout around the estate to make sure there's no suspicious activity, and knights will stand guard in this wing for your protection. You should probably rest for the time being, Miss. I'm sure this disagreeable incident has left an appalling impression on you, and it wouldn't be wise to return in such a state of mind."

"I will send word to your mother that you're not feeling well to attend," Nanna intervened, rubbing your shoulders with gentleness. With no energy left in your body to even stand on your feet, you leaned against her and acquiesced with weariness. "We'll have this mess cleaned tomorrow. If there's nothing else you need to say, young man, we'll retire for the night."

It took you a while to realize Nanna had led you to your bedroom, until she was helping you undress. Not a single word on the matter escaped her lips and neither did you want to talk about it, but you sensed her deep concern in the way she tried to quiet your fears.

Free from the tortuous corset, for the time being, you slipped into a nightgown and sought comfort under the sheets before Nanna offered you a glass of cool water and tucked you in bed. She wished you goodnight and told you that everything would be alright, that there was nothing to worry about despite what you had witnessed.

Bringing your knees to your chest you could tell that sleep wouldn't come easily so you lay there, wondering if by any chance you were losing your mind. If by tomorrow there was no trace of that man, would that mean you'd imagined it all? Would people think that you'd lied? Despite all these doubts plaguing your head, deep down, you knew it had to be real. None of this could have been a figment of your imagination; your senses couldn't have betrayed you and played this cruel joke on you.

You refused to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's another chapter, yay! 
> 
> I am sure that you've realized who was that man in the library. Of course you did, heh. He's pretty much got his name written all over him, but my intention was to make it obvious to the readers so you wouldn't have to wait too long for Vergil to make an appearance.
> 
> As some people may know, it was stated in the DMC4 novel that Solemnis was Sanctus's predecessor.
> 
> The reason why I chose Italian names for the characters is because in the game many names have Latin origins such as Credo, Agnus, Sanctus, Gloria. Nero is the Italian word for 'black', seeing as he was wrapped in a black blanket when he was abandoned at the orphanage. The names given to Bianco Angelos, Alto Angelos, are also Italian. The name Kyrie has a Greek origin but, well, that's another story. I also have a headcanon where people in Fortuna speak Italian, though some would know English too. This is the reason why I stated the island is located in the Mediterranean Sea. It's set in a semi-realistic world, in a way.
> 
> Well, that's all for now! Hopefully, you're enjoying the story so far. Reviews are appreciated, so thank you in advance.


	3. Savior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took me quite a while to update this fic. Hopefully readers haven’t forgotten about it hehe. This happens because I have a bad habit of writing long chapters. Sorry about that orz
> 
> I want to thank Lucía once more, for all the support, beautiful art she makes for me, and for getting my butt in gear to finish this chapter at once. She’s been doing that for the past couple of years, so she’s truly a godsend. Thanks to Lala for the support and beautiful art, too! She really knows how to bribe me into writing more, and now she’s making some comics based on scenes for this story (I wish I could show you the WIPs because they look amazing!). A precious cinnamon roll, I swear!
> 
> Thanks to the readers and hope you enjoy ♥
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my first language. OCs.

  
**Chapter II:** _“Savior”_  


The next day, Agnese wasn’t in the most favorable disposition and for good reason.

She had learned about the intrusion that morning during breakfast and, needless to say, wasn’t very keen on the idea of being kept in the dark about such concerns. The explanation the knight captain offered was that, despite your valid claims, the knights had been unable to find any signs of suspicious activity around the estate and, therefore, saw no motive to trouble her last night. However, this did not seem to be enough for your mother.

“Are you certain that you have done a careful search in our grounds? I will not tolerate the presence of any prowler roaming freely in my property, as though it belonged to them,” Agnese said, her stern voice echoing in the dining hall as her hazel eyes narrowed with mistrust and exasperation. She stared at the captain standing tall in the middle of the room, and you noticed the strained breath he took before he spoke with restraint.

“I assure you, ma'am, that we have made our best efforts to catch this undesirable but have found no trace of him whatsoever. His trail eluded us in the cover of the night, but we shall look into the matter closely in hours to come. My report will be ready before the day ends and I will supervise the inquiry of domestic service personally, in case someone has witnessed any event that could serve to our investigation.”

It was unlikely they would find the culprit of the crime, and cause of your commotion, but the captain had to appease the baroness’s temper somehow. From that perspective, you could fathom the anxiety he was feeling at the moment given that your mother wasn’t the most adroit at sympathizing with others, when her interests were compromised. Truth be told, you felt sorry for Sir Vittorio and wished that none of this would have ever transpired. Unintentionally, you’d dragged him into a difficult situation and you feared for the outcome of this conversation. How could he hope to find someone who had vanished into thin air or was probably a figment of your imagination? Only the Savior held the answers to your questions, at this point.

“What I want to know is how has anyone managed to break into our house, unseen and armed might I add, putting my daughter’s life at risk!”

The captain clenched his jaw and sighed. “With all due respect, my lady, you were hosting a celebration with several guests yesterday. Events like these offer a higher probability for these felons to escape our surveillance undetected.”

From the sour and offended expression she wore at his words, you could tell this exchange hadn’t taken a good turn and you held your breath, sensing the knot that formed in your stomach whilst you sipped from your porcelain cup of coffee and milk.

“Are you implying that this is all my fault, or perhaps you are too incompetent to handle the security of this household?”

The captain’s face paled and he gulped, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly. “No… no, of course not. That is not what I meant—”

“Tell me, have you forgotten why you’re here? Or could it be that I need to find someone better suited for the task?

The man fell silent, unsure of how to reply to the barrage of questions, and with a subtle clear of your throat you took this chance to intervene. "Mother, I do not think it’s the captain’s fault. I’m sure he had many issues to be concerned about yesterday, your security most important of all.” It was the least you could do to allay the tense atmosphere and convince her not to be so harsh on him. If the baroness built a bad reputation for Sir Vittorio, his career in the Order of Knights might as well be finished and you could not allow that to happen because of your foolish negligence. “I should not have abandoned the great hall without your knowledge, in the first place. That was something careless of me to do and I must apologize for being an inconvenience to everyone. Had I been a little more cautious in my actions, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” you admitted, doing your best to convey regret whilst Agnese eyed you with a suspecting look that you found most invasive and accusative.

“Very well, then. I will accept my daughter’s excuse on your behalf, but I trust you will not let an incident such as this happen again,” she stated, before waving a hand absent-mindedly and returning to her meal. “You are dismissed.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The captain’s voice was strained as he bowed to your mother and took his leave.

Despite the collected facade you had to maintain, for the sake of keeping up appearances, a feeling of dread had taken over you as soon as it became clear that there was no sign of this mysterious outsider. To be honest, you were nowhere near as eager to know what had truly taken place last night— who this person was or what his intentions were. The fact that your fears had been confirmed, however, made you restless in ways you never expected and you began to question your own sanity. Either you were having delusions or this man was exceptional at stealth after, somehow, surviving a fall that should have left him in no conditions to proceed with his escape.

Something was terribly wrong with this story— even the captain could tell, but he didn’t dare contradict your account as that would have been a clear sign of disrespect on his part. His disconcert hadn’t escaped your attention, when you gave him a description of the events, but you still stood firm in your allegations against the odds. If you retracted after the uproar you’d caused, and the fuss Nanna made about it after that, the situation could only become worse and Agnese would be truly displeased that you’d lied to them all this time. Not to mention that you would make her look like a fool in front of the whole house.

“Unbelievable. The nerve he has to oppose me!”

“I know you’re upset, mother, but sometimes these kinds of incidents happen. There was no need to intimidate that poor man. He’s doing his best to solve this issue—”

“I was not intimidating him; I was reminding him what is his place, in case he had forgotten. One day, when you manage your own household, you’ll understand that you need to have a firm hand to deal with these people, otherwise they start believing they are your equal and that is something that cannot happen. They need to remember who’s above.”

What she said wasn’t something that made you comfortable. You’d never believed to be superior to anyone else, the way she implied you were. If there was something that Nanna had taught you well, and you always kept in mind, it was to regard everyone with the same level of respect that you would like to receive. She never told you, but you knew she regretted not having been insistent enough with your mother in that aspect of her upbringing.

While you had considered keeping your thoughts to yourself, at first, you felt compelled to speak nevertheless. “If I may be so bold so as to give my opinion, mother, I believe the captain has a point that deserves consideration. Regardless of the best efforts of our knights to provide a safe environment to us, a bash provides a chance for anyone to sneak in our house unnoticed. Anyone could devise a way to infiltrate, and they could mingle amongst our guests with far more ease. Unless the knights kept a close surveillance on everyone, which could have instilled some indignation among your friends at your misplaced wariness, then I’m afraid it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Something that should not have occurred in the first place, if we are to speak truthfully.”

“I understand your concern but do think of this clearly; Sir Vittorio has been a loyal servant to you during all these years, and never once did I hear you complain about him. If you send him away, and choose someone else to oversee the security of our estate, would that really be a wise decision? What if that person truly doesn’t meet your expectations and later we have to regret some dire consequences? Is it really worth the risk?”

Agnese took a moment to assess your words, and then she pursed her lips whilst lying back on her chair. “You may be right about that; after all, he had the best recommendations that I could ever hope to find. I have to wonder, though, why are you so concerned about that man?”

“Well…” you downed a bite of pastry and licked your lips with unease, not having expected that question from her. “In all honesty, I am not particularly interested in him.” What other answer could you offer to abate her misgivings? He was a good man and had a family to support, like most people working in your house, but you weren’t about to share your thoughts on the matter with her if you intended to convince her of your reasons. You’d definitely never voice your opinion regarding her attitude, either. That would have been a clear sign of defiance to her, and you preferred avoiding any confrontations. After all, she was your mother and you were supposed to abide by her rules. “I am merely concerned about the affairs of our home. Do you find it so strange?”

After a moment’s consideration, the frown on her face disappeared and she smiled softly— no doubt humored at your response. “I suppose it is an opportunity to prepare for your future role and I am pleased you’ve decided to become more involved. Now you understand why I am so troubled every time you’re out of my sight?”

“Yes, mother, and I will not attempt to do it ever again.”

“Good girl. Now finish your breakfast, my dear, for you have much to do today and I don’t want you neglecting your obligations.”

For good measure, you reciprocated her mirth but deep down you were a bundle of nerves and the uncertainty was eating away at your mind. This unpleasant sensation persisted and became stronger as the end of the day approached, much to your dismay.

As you’d feared, the captain came empty-handed with his investigation despite his efforts to bring the matter to a closure. There wasn’t much you could contribute to its resolution other than your account of the events, and none of the other attendants had seen anything out of the ordinary that evening— something that made you believe you were an unwitting liar. It felt as though you’d seen a ghost, for the man you had encountered seemingly vanished without a trace. In the following days you hoped that the issue would be forgotten if only because it had become an uncomfortable subject that you wished to bury, along with the appalling recollection of what had transpired.

Despite your wishes, you couldn’t simply put it out of your head and, in your attempts to find an explanation for this inscrutable affair that was becoming the bane of your existence, you started considering all the possibilities. Could it be that you had seen a ghost, after all— the reflection of someone who committed suicide in your house, many years ago? That sounded highly unlikely, though, for you’d never heard of such a story before. Would Nanna not have told you anything, if that was the case? She looked like she didn’t have the foggiest idea of what you were talking about when you decided to ask her, at long last.

Until it occurred to you that he could be a demon in disguise…

It was the only logical reason you could conceive as to why he had jumped without any fear, along with his unfathomable vanishing, but you had no actual way to corroborate your suspicions. Demons taking human form weren’t unheard of, however, and there were some documented cases that you tried to look into though you didn’t possess as much time as you would have liked to study them. What you knew was that Sparda himself had been a demon that could assume a less terrifying appearance, for the sake of blending with your race— although those accounts were lost in time, and no one really knew what he looked like. The closest depiction people had of him was that of a man with large horns but, of course, something told you that was too bizarre to be true.

But back to your elusive stranger— as odd as it sounded to call him yours— whatever he was it could not be from this world. Hopefully, he wasn’t a figment of an unstable imagination but, given the circumstances, you weren’t sure you wanted to reach the bottom of this.

* * *

That morning you woke up before dawn with a strange feeling that unsettled you deeply— a hunch, so to speak. You tried to dismiss it, convinced that you’d let your own hysteria take root in your mind already and you were merely stressed.

Getting some sleep during the past nights had proven to be difficult, so you were rather vexed to be roused from your slumber earlier than you were supposed to. It meant you’d rest less than you had intended to and the idea wasn’t one that you found very appealing. There wasn’t much you could do, however, but lying in bed waiting for the sun to rise. Some hours later, one of the maids walked in and pulled the drapes of the large windows to let the morning light inside your room— which prompted you to groan and hide your face under the covers. You’d never been allowed to sleep in unless you were ill, so in a matter of minutes you were forced to accept the fact you’d be dragged out of bed.

After washing the somnolence away from your features, you made yourself presentable and headed downstairs. Surprisingly, the day began with an alteration in your typical routine when you walked into the dining hall and discovered that Agnese was absent.

A little taken aback, since she’d never run late before, you sought answers from one of the attendants. “Good morning, everyone. May I ask where is my mother?”

The butler, a man in his forties, stepped forward and bowed. “I am afraid Lady Agnese will not be able to join you this morning, miss. She has important business to attend with some visitors, at the moment.”

That was odd. Usually, she granted audiences to her guests later in the afternoon. Did something happen that required her immediate attention? Nobody was in conditions to provide you with good information, so you thought no more of it and had breakfast alone before retiring to your chambers to don a more formal and appropriate attire. The idea of replacing your comfortable dressing gown for a corset, yet again as it happened every day, bothered you but there was no way around it. As the maid tightened the laces on your back and constricted your upper body— a strain that every woman had to endure with contentment for the sake of an ideal figure— you only asked to have fortitude.

By then, your routine dictated that you should attend mass, and Nanna didn’t take long to let you know that she would be waiting for you in the hall. Despite your family had a chapel in your grounds for personal use, she had convinced your mother to let you accompany her to town and you were thankful for her indulgence. It gave you an excuse to get out of the house, albeit with some conditions that needed to be met, and to you this was an opportunity— perhaps the only one you had— to see the world outside.

Once your appearance was groomed for the occasion, you put on a white hood emblazoned with lace— just a small detail, seeing as Agnese believed that the regular hood was too simplistic for her tastes. It was a tradition in your faith to wear head coverings outside, even more so when attending mass, as a way to demonstrate virtue and a sign of humbleness before your Lord and Savior.

Before leaving, you thought to bid Agnese farewell if it wasn’t much trouble— since she was busy with her visitors, you surmised she wouldn’t accompany you. You didn’t have the chance to greet her when you broke your fast, and you had no desire to appear ill-mannered to her lest she would feel affronted.

You’d been told she was in her study room and that was the place where you headed to, hurrying to reach your destination so you wouldn’t give Nanna the chance to complain about your tardiness. But as soon as you managed to arrive there, you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of two knights standing guard at the doors. At that moment, you didn’t understand what was happening and their presence surely wasn’t something that put you at ease, no matter how hard you tried to find a reasonable justification for it.

They took notice of you forthwith and, making certain of imparting a dignified impression to conceal your less than convenient gaucherie, you approached.

“Good morning, miss,” they greeted with earnest deportment and you reciprocated their greetings. One them, the one of higher rank, spoke then, “what can we do for you?”

“I merely wished to speak with my mother. Is she… very occupied right now?” Your reply was calm, but there was little you could do to hide the concern on your face and, surely, it was hard to miss. “Is something the matter, sir knight?”

The brown-eyed man smiled at you with politeness, though it didn’t make you feel any better. “No, of course not, miss. We are here to escort General Santos, so there’s nothing you should be worried about. If you wish to speak with your lady mother, then allow us to announce your arrival first.”

He signaled for his comrade to proceed and, with some hesitation, the other knight knocked on the door. No doubt the poor boy was intimidated, and you couldn’t blame him when you heard Agnese’s irritated voice. “Come in.”

The young man turned the doorknob and walked in, puffing his chest and standing tall with hands pressed against his side. “Ma'am, sir, I apologize for the interruption but miss (Name) is here to see her mother.”

At the mention of your name, Agnese changed her demeanor and you let out the breath you’d unconsciously been holding for a while. “Oh, my daughter?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the knight said rather awkwardly, and a pregnant silence followed.

“Well… what are you waiting for? Let her in at once!” your mother urged with an irked tone, and you decided to allow yourself entrance to avoid the fuss on her part. “Well, it is good to see you my child! Was there something you needed to tell me?”

“Good morning, mother; sir.” You curtsied, like the good girl you were supposed to be, and used your softest voice to feign demure.

“Ahh, has little (Name) come to see me?” Agnese’s guest— a bearded old man— spoke with amusement, seated in one of the cozy armchairs of the study room.

His manner was decorous and sophisticated, as expected from the kind of people she would associate with. Actually, Sir Santos had been friend to your family during many years and an habitué of your house back when he was Supreme General of the Holy Knights. Although he had retired from office a few years ago, those of lower rank still addressed him as General out of courtesy and respect. It went without saying that Santos retained significant influence in the Order of the Sword and knew its workings like the back of his hand. Despite of the end of his formal activities, without doubt he was an important adherent and many knights admired him.

“It is a pleasant surprise to see you, sir, though I had no idea you were visiting today.” With your best smile, you greeted him before recalling that Nanna was still waiting and you’d be late for the ceremony. “I am very sorry to disturb but, given that I didn’t have the opportunity to speak with my mother during breakfast, I thought it would be best to let her know that I’m leaving for the morn mass.”

“Oh, my child, always so devoted and well-mannered!” Though you were supposed to feel pleased at the compliment, her comment embarrassed you. Mainly because you were nowhere near as devoted as she would believe you to be, and you never considered politeness should be praised— to you it was a quality of character that everyone should strive to develop, after all. “Fine, then. Who am I to oppose the call of the Savior to his children? I regret I cannot join you today but maybe on another occasion, my dear.”

“Of course.” Part of you couldn’t help but rejoice at the idea that it would only be you and Nanna this time. However, you wore an expression of mild disappointment to disguise how you truly felt and curtsied one more time, imparting your best wishes before setting out.

* * *

Nanna was your chaperon to your trip into the business district, as your routine demanded it. You travelled by car in the company of your trusted chauffeur Ennio, like many other times, and while she happily chatted you found entertainment in the sight of forest and grass at the side of the road. Truth be told, you weren’t paying much attention to what she was telling you, and it wasn’t your intention to ignore her, but you found it difficult to focus on her words when there were other thoughts drifting in your mind. However, your absent-minded attitude didn’t go unnoticed to her.

“You are worried about something,” Nanna said as a matter-of-fact, and the suddenness of her statement caught you off guard. “What is it?”

How were you supposed to answer that question? You weren’t certain, but it was futile to lie at this point; she knew that you were acting strange and so it was best to tell her the truth, perhaps.

With a grimace, you gazed into her green eyes. “Nanna, be honest with me. Do you think there is something wrong with my sanity?”

She heaved a strenuous sigh and shifted with unease, making you lose a bit of hope at the way she was considering what to say at all. “Is this about that incident? Are you still thinking about it?”

Were you that easy to read? “It’s just that—”

“If you say you saw someone, then I believe you.”

“Do you really?” You arched an eyebrow and thinned your lips, sensing the frustration grow inside of you. Did she believe you were still a little girl who conformed with some empty words? “Nanna, don’t try to make me feel better about this…”

“You doubt me after all these years? By the look of terror you had when I found you in the library, it was clear to me that your life was in danger. I’m not certain what happened to that man, and I will not attempt to understand it, but I believe it’s time you put your mind at ease and let it go.”

Things could never be so simple…

“What if he wasn’t human? What if he was… a demon?” Somehow those questions escaped your lips before you could stop them, and Nanna’s expression turned weary all of a sudden.

“(Name),” she began with a furrow of her brows, making you relent in your useless pursuits. “It’s best we never know who or _what_ he was. I have a feeling nothing good will come out of this, so you should try to forget it ever happened. There has been enough tension as it is, with your mother nearly sending the whole house on a hopeless quest to find this intruder whom we haven’t the slightest clue about, and you know how obstinate she is. For a moment I feared she would discharge the knight captain and, honestly, that would have been the least of his concerns when Agnese is involved.”

“I feel so sorry to have put him between a rock and a hard place. I was scared, too, so that is why I couldn’t remain silent knowing he was receiving unfair treatment. Mother tends to lack restraint when she perceives someone has wronged her.”

“Well, I believe you did well to intervene in favor of Sir Vittorio. Considering that his wife just gave birth to a daughter…”

“Really? When?”

“Last week. His second child.”

“Oh, I had no idea about that!” While you weren’t sure whether your contribution had made a substantial difference, at least it was a relief to know that you didn’t let Agnese go rampant with her temper. The fact that he still worked in your house was an indication that she’d reconsidered her stance. “He must be very happy with his little girl. What did they name her?”

“It seems they have a penchant for choosing unique, and strange, names for their children. The eldest is Credo, and this one they named Kyrie Eleison.”

“ _I Believe_ and _Lord Have Mercy_. They sound like beautiful names to me— a veneration to Sparda. I see nothing wrong with that.” You glanced at the window and your jaw dropped at what you saw, unable to contain your childlike excitement as you nearly pressed your nose against the cool glass. “Nanna, look over there; it’s a fair!”

She scooted over towards you for a better visage and chuckled when she spotted the stalls and colorful flags waving in the soft morning breeze. “Ah, it’s true. Our traditional fair that unofficially opens the Festival of the Sword. I’m sure many people will be interested in attending this year.”

It dawned on you that you’d almost forgotten about it, with all the commotion brewing in your heart. The Festival of the Sword, of course! It was a very important celebration in the community of Fortuna— the most important, actually— held in honor of your beloved Savior. Such was the magnitude of this festivity, and devotion to Sparda, that sometimes it lasted an entire month. However, its true core lay with the working-class people as opposed to those who belonged to the most privileged sectors. This meant you weren’t allowed to participate in these events, and your mother had never been interested in what she believed to be ‘peasant’s folly'— where people danced to folk music, got inebriated, and ended up disturbing social order. Your only experiences for this celebration every year involved a visit to the opera house and a vigil of prayers, as well as the gatherings that Agnese so graciously hosted or the ones you were invited to.

You had to admit you were curious about what other people did, and if it was as fun as you imagined it to be…

“Can we have a look around after the mass?” For some reason, you were feeling hopeful that Nanna would grant your wish.

She sighed and avoided your gaze. “Are we going to have this discussion every year? You know we can’t go.”

“What is it so bad about a fair? We’re not doing anything wrong! Why would mother be so upset?”

“Agnese is adamant on you observing your schedule and she doesn’t like the idea of her daughter roaming the streets. Don’t forget you are a Serafini. There are people who could try harm you or use you to gain some benefit. Not to mention that we don’t know what other dangers could be lurking around us!”

“But I wouldn’t be alone. Please, Nanna?” you begged, in spite of her arguments, clasping your hands in front of your chest.

Still, the idea that someone would try to take you hostage and ask for a ransom— as she was implying— sounded ridiculous to you. Who in their right mind would do that, knowing the consequences that would follow? You had to admit she had a point regarding the presence of demons, which made you recall your apparent encounter with one; though being attacked in broad daylight was something that you’d deemed unlikely, in your ignorance.

“No,” she grumbled with a stern tone that hushed your weak complaint for good, as her eyes narrowed and her expression turned severe. “We shall not speak of this matter again. Understood?”

No matter how much you wanted to express your disagreement, the belief that your elders knew best restrained you and you didn’t insist. The dispute left you crestfallen and all throughout the mass you barely could bring yourself to pronounce the litanies, after each petition of the preacher, or sing any praises. Perhaps your wishes were too puerile but to have been put down by Nanna, whom you loved deeply and sought for comfort, in such a manner had afflicted your spirits. Though you held no animosity— how could you resent her for a matter so trivial?— that was the first time you felt as though her siding with your mother would one day become the very fault that your heart couldn’t forgive.

Your taciturn behavior wasn’t something she could endure for much longer. This, you realized once the mass was over and you headed for the car. It was then that she gently seized your shoulder and turned you to face her, earning your confusion.

“Do I have to bear with that sad face every year, too?” Nanna held your chin and smiled, regret in her gaze. “Forgive me if I was too harsh but I only do what your mother considers best.”

“Of course,” you muttered with a forced curl of your lips, eliciting a strenuous sigh from her.

“What am I going to do with you? I suppose you won’t stop asking until you get a positive answer, no? Fine, then; it seems that I have no other choice but to concede just so I don’t have to see you so morose.” To be honest, you hadn’t expected this turn of events but you were happy nonetheless. “We’ll go there but our visit shall be brief. Do not forget you have obligations to attend today, and when I say we need to leave you will obey. Do we have an arrangement?”

“Most certainly,” you chirped, heart swelling with delight as you wrapped your arms around her. “Oh, thank you so much!”

“Alright, my little potato. I hope I won’t regret this…”

_“Nanna!”_

* * *

This was a new and thrilling experience for you, in spite of the mundane overtones of your little escapade. For the first time in your life, you had the chance to stray a little from the routine you’d observed during many years ever since you were a child. Though it was unpleasant to recall, you remembered that the one occasion you had walked the streets of Fortuna was during the funeral procession of your father, may he rest in peace. You were five years old back then, and certainly not as interested in the world around you when tragedy struck your life.

But you had no wish to linger on those memories; no, you wanted to savor this moment of freedom as you treaded alongside Nanna and your eyes roamed each stall exhibiting goods that were both produced in Fortuna and imported from abroad. She was particularly interested in some fabrics that she intended to order, so you could have more clothes tailored. On your part, you were too entertained by the various sights that surrounded you— the smells and sounds that drifted in the air. Oh, the colors and the lights that flooded this place— the cheerful voices of vendors as they promoted their wares in the market and the joyful music that played in the background.

As soon as the mass had ended, people headed towards the fair. Among the different colors of dresses and suits, white hoods predominated in the crowd. You had to say you didn’t like wearing one during the summers, but— fortunately— you never had the need to use it for too long, considering you didn’t leave the estate for long periods of time. Still, that day you were more than willing to bear with the discomfort and make the most of this rare occasion.

“Nanna, look!” You pointed to some hairpins that you found particularly pretty. How was it that you became interested in so trivial things all of a sudden, you didn’t know but you felt like a little girl all over again. A bit sheepish at your outburst, you grabbed Nanna’s arm and pressed your cheek against her shoulder. “Can I have one?”

“Of course you can, little sparrow. Choose whichever you like.”

There was one that caught your attention immediately— a turquoise and pink butterfly with black veins— and you took it in your hands, examining its patterns and lively colors. “I’ll take this one, please.”

Nanna paid for your new acquisition and though you insisted that you’d return the money, she convinced you it wasn’t necessary. After all, she received an allowance— which you weren’t permitted to administer— from your mother to care for your miscellaneous needs and whims. After you handed her the hairpin, she put it away in her purse and you continued on your merry way. But just as you started to leave that place Nanna bumped into someone and came to an abrupt stop, you running into her back at the same time. The woman whom she had happened to encounter gasped in shock, then apologized profusely to you both before she stared at Nanna long and hard.

“Mrs. Bellini?” she called in a tentative voice, and Nanna’s eyes brightened up in recognition.

“Mrs. Pace, what a pleasant surprise to see you here! Oh, I must congratulate you on the birth of your granddaughter! A child is always a blessing in the family,” Nanna spoke with glee, much to the lady’s contentment. You didn’t know her very well, but you vaguely recalled that she was the mother of Sir Vittorio’s wife.

“Thank you very much! I must say that the whole family is ecstatic about Kyrie’s birth and though my grandson seemed to be jealous of her, at first, as soon as he saw his little sister he swore to be the best brother in existence.” Mrs. Pace looked at you and flustered slightly, placing a hand on her chest before curtsying. “Ah, forgive me, young miss; in my overwhelming joy, I nearly forgot my manners! It is good to see you on such a fine day.”

You responded in kind, making no observation on what she perceived to be an act of incivility. “Thank you, ma'am. You too, as well.”

Soon, to your dismay which you tried to conceal very deep inside, they engaged in a rather lively conversation about children and marriage. What you wanted was to explore some more, but you feared that if you said something Nanna would scold you later. But there was no doubt that you didn’t find their chitchat very compelling. At your age, you didn’t have much interest in talking about such matters, if only because sharing your expectations was futile as you would have no saying in your eventual engagement. When cousins around your age asked you about it, in what was supposed to be a friendly exchange between young people, you didn’t know what to answer.

Perhaps it would be best not to bother them. You told Nanna that you’d be within eyesight and went ahead, inspecting wood carvings and other craftworks, before your attention was drawn onto the cheers and music that surrounded a procession nearby. You couldn’t deny that the situation intrigued you, when in the distance you spotted a veiled woman in a creamy dress riding a horse.

Was this a traditional wedding? You’d never seen one before and your curiosity got the best of you. Even if you didn’t want to contemplate the idea of being married so soon yourself, that didn’t mean you were unable to share the joy of others. Furthermore, this wasn’t an event that you witnessed every day so you wanted to take this chance to see what it was all about.

Throwing a glance behind your shoulder, you found that Nanna was still talking with Mrs. Pace and it appeared as if your little stroll would not go any further than this. Intruding in their conversation like a spoiled child was out of question, but there was no harm in doing some exploration on your own, right? It wasn’t too far away and you’d return before she realized you were gone. Oh, the foolishness of youth…

Your feet moved and you couldn’t control them, despite you knew you were stepping beyond the limits of what Nanna considered safe. You wished she would have stopped you back then, but that day for some reason she seemed to be mighty entertained by her friend to notice your disappearance. If only you had stayed by her side perhaps none of the events that unfolded much later would have ever happened, and you would have happily conformed to the designs Agnese had for your life.

You made your way to the people, and stood on the tip of your toes to have a better view. The young bride paraded in front of everyone, and you couldn’t help but think how beautiful and blissful she looked as her groom led the white mare by the reins. It was then that you wondered if you would feel a fraction of her joy when you were in her place.

“Hurray for the newlyweds!” a man shouted and, before long, others clapped and lauded at the couple. You decided to take your leave and return as soon as possible, but your intent was thwarted by a sudden congregation that surrounded you without warning. At first, you didn’t understand what was happening but soon it sank into your mind that the distance between you and the fair was growing, and Nanna was nowhere to be seen. Where was she, for the love of the Savior?!

You called her name once and tried to wriggle your way out of the crowd, only to be dragged away by the procession. You called her name twice, but your voice was drowned amid the cheers and the music of a world unknown to you— a world that had become strange and scary when it dawned on you that you were alone.

* * *

After some time roaming the streets aimlessly, you reached the conclusion that you didn’t have the foggiest idea of where you were. The fact the business district was not that vast made it worse and, though you could have asked for directions, you were afraid to talk to strangers after everything Nanna had told you.

In your attempts to find her, you’d strayed a little too far from your intended course and somehow reached the port. How did that happen was beyond your understanding, but you abandoned all hope of finding your way back and stayed in a calm spot at the quay. That seemed like a better option than walking around in circles, not to mention that your sense of direction wasn’t the best here. Surely, being kept away from the outside world had its downsides and you knew in what a vulnerable position you were. However, you tried to act calm even when you were frantic with worry on the inside. The truth was, you didn’t wish to bring any sort of attention on you from other passersby so you pretended to be an ordinary girl that was simply enjoying the sun and the wind on her face.

You’d been given some candy-coated almonds in a pretty pouch, a cute gift from the parents of the newlyweds to those who shared their joy. Since you didn’t have many distractions to occupy yourself with, and you were feeling rather hungry after all the struggle and panic, you thought some food would relieve the anxiety that was gnawing at you. Easier said than done, but you managed well for the first couple of minutes. All you had to do was waiting and, eventually, Nanna or someone from your house would find you and take you home; you’d apologize for the inconvenience and never again make a senseless choice— that was, if Agnese still allowed you to visit town after this. She wasn’t going to be pleased to learn that you had disobeyed her orders once more, you knew it.

If you were to live in seclusion, then you supposed there was no way to avoid the consequences. Nanna wouldn’t have it easy and you feared that your mother would reprimand her, too.

Humming a tune to yourself, you hoped that she wouldn’t be too angry. How long would you have to wait here, however? The idea of spending hours on your own in this place made you uneasy, but there was nothing you could do about it. It surprised you how much you wanted to be home, when you’d been so excited at the prospect of going out. While this wasn’t your idea of an enjoyable time, at least the experience wasn’t turning out to be terrible so far. With the way Agnese and Nanna had described the world beyond home, you would have expected to be robbed or hurt— a most misleading exaggeration that portrayed people as evil and made the knights look bad at their job.

You found yourself growing more relaxed and appreciative of your surroundings rather than withdrawn and scared. You smelt the saline droplets in the wind and pulled the hood down to let the breeze tousle your hair, closing your eyes as you felt a renewed peace of mind. The melody of the waves softly crashing against the dock filled your ears and then you heard a beautiful song— a voice so sweet that sent your soul into a state of delightful trance and you couldn’t resist the impulse to approach the source, as though some unseen force compelled you to move.

Unable to control yourself, you leaned against the rusted railing and gazed beneath. There was a distinct and strange glow inside the blue waters and, the more your eyes lingered on it the more your mind became fuzzy as all strength abandoned your body. Suddenly your energy had been drained and it felt as though you could sleep for a thousand years.

Before you had any chance to come to terms with the reality of your situation, the old railings creaked and you fell into your doom. No faster did you plunge into the sea than the harmonic tune that had captivated you earlier died. Instead, you heard the dreadful screech of a creature that was dragging you into the depths never to see the light again. Even if you screamed, no one would come to help you. Your cries would drown, and your disappearance would go unnoticed; your memory would fade into a bleak night of mournful demise.

As futile as you knew it would be, however, you tried to fight against your predator— a natural instinct for any creature when its very existence was threatened. You felt appendages wrap around your arms and legs, so cold that they rendered your limbs numb and constricted your body painfully to the point you thought they would crush your frail bones. There was no way you could escape, no matter how much you struggled to break free— you were simply too weak to contend with the might of a demon that intended to make you its food.

To your dismay, you saw another being— a scaly blue monster with sharp teeth diving towards you. If you weren’t terrified enough, then the sight of that beast surely sent your already fragile sanity into an abyss of madness.

You were going to die. How ephemeral your existence had been. How insignificant humans were before the might of these ancient creatures. Without a doubt, you should have died that day but you were given another chance— it just hadn’t occurred to you the extent of this truth then. Your descent into a world of shadows stopped, and you were free from the bonds that kept you prisoner to your fears. You saw the light above and extended your arms to it, hoping to find salvation before it was too late.

Air burned your lungs, like you were breathing for the very first time in your life. With rather violent coughs and rasps that almost left you unconscious, you expelled the water that you’d swallowed and choked some more before lying limp on the ground. All of a sudden and none too gently, a hand seized your shoulder and turned you on your back. Every muscle in your body was afflicted by a wave of excruciating ache and you groaned when someone tapped your cheek with their hand, forcing you to open your eyes. The glare of the sun obscured the features of the person looming over your form, and you struggled to even make out the tiniest detail, but you noticed the halo of silver that crowned their hair— pure and bright.

At that moment, still in a state of delirium, you thought maybe the Savior had returned to deliver you from evil. There was nothing to fear if he was with you; that was what you’d always been told, at least.

You would come to learn how wrong your assumptions had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know who’s coming for the next part huehuehue.


	4. Unexpected Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been a while hasn't it? D: time flies by but I'm back with a continuation of the fic, at long last. You surely have realized that it takes me time to post stuff, but the good thing is that my chapters aren't short so make yourself comfortable and be prepared for a lengthy read. I'm still trying to finish a lot of projects I have pending but... eh, gotta admit video games have been distracting me. Also, life gets in the way orz.
> 
> I want to take a moment to thank readers for the feedback and the votes! Thank you so much, beautiful people. It keeps me motivated to write more and your support means a lot to me.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. Slow burn. OCs. English is not my first language.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **_Also, if you're tired of reading (Y/N) in every reader insert fic, I highly recommend that you download the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome Web Store (for Google Chrome). It'll replace all those (Y/N) with your actual name! :D_   
>  **   
> 

**Part** **III** **:** _Unexpected Meeting_

It was difficult to tell for how long you slept the restless slumber of those who wander between worlds. You weren't certain of what had happened, either, though your mind vaguely recalled the coldness of blue waters and the shadow of fear that had gripped and almost crushed your soul. The memories were blurry, as though a veil had been draped over your eyes, and you could barely make sense of the bizarre images that lingered.

Amid those recollections was that of a faceless being, whose identity kept eluding you despite how much you strained to see. You simply could not, as the light that enveloped them was too incandescent and it always forced you to close your eyes tight. Perhaps those of your kind weren't meant to see the gentle face of the Savior. Maybe it was too sacred for a mere mortal such as yourself to behold, but you were content to be cradled in his arms like a small child so you didn't protest or resist.

Though part of you argued that this vision you'd conjured to allay your fears was too good to be true, another just wished to believe it was all real. A strange sense of peace had touched your soul, and you allowed it to envelop you in its gentle wings, as you felt your body drift to a place far away— carried by the waves of time and space.

As your surroundings morphed into a familiar setting, all of sudden a memory resurfaced and came back to life right before your own eyes. You found yourself inside a picture of the past, somehow; a little girl again, wearing colorful frilly dresses and ringlets with ribbons on your hair. But it wasn't the happiness of childhood that you were reliving with innocent zeal— days of reverie amid dolls, tea parties, and fairy tales. Instead you were standing by the door of your father's chambers, gazing upon his emaciated pale face as he lay immobile in bed. His grey eyes had rolled to the back of his skull, and his features drew a hideous grimace of fear that the rosy foam coming out of his mouth couldn't conceal. He had suffered before his death, and no one had been present to help him or even accompany him in his journey to the other side.

The baron had been ill for a long time, and nothing the doctor of your family did appeared to improve his unyielding condition. You were too young to understand, back then, that he was living on borrowed time. His last days, he was confined to bed and you kept him company during the afternoons after you were done with the lessons of your tutors.

He was an affectionate man, and you'd been happy by his side. Your father had been the one to encourage your imagination and allowed you to be just a child— allowed you to be yourself above all things. He used to tell you stories before going to bed, and he always was patient with your endless questions on even the silliest topics you could think about. Your curiosity, he once said, was something that one day would get you in trouble but he still humored you the way any loving father would.

Sooner rather than later, however, his health deteriorated despite your best expectations. He tried to hide his ailment from you, of course, but you sensed his suffering and noticed the changes in him. No longer the same man with a long life ahead of him, his complexion had become ash-colored— almost nearing a faint shade of blue— and his skin was most of the time covered in a layer of sweat. He was less alert to the world around him, as though he had little interest in it, and he stopped telling you stories when his shortness of breath became too much to bear. Then came the terrible coughing fits and the horror in his gaze when he saw the white handkerchief in his hand was stained with blood. After that disturbing event, you weren't allowed to visit his chambers anymore. Those were Agnese's orders, supposedly for the reason that he needed his rest to get better. When you grew up, you chose to believe that maybe she wanted to spare you from the sight of him in such a miserable state.

Being kept in the dark about this matter scared you, even more so when Agnese didn't even attempt to approach and give you reassurance. You thought that maybe she needed space to deal with the situation on her own but, still, a word of comfort would have sufficed. Nanna tried to keep you content saying father would get well; however, she had only fed you false hopes that in the end withered your confident optimism, and you came to the harrowing realization that life was not a fairy tale where people got to live happily ever after. You'd always thought that such a thing was possible, but it was only mere wishful thinking on your part.

That afternoon, you heard the commotion the maid had stirred when you were making your way to visit him— a crown of white and pink carnations in your hands. So innocent was the mind of your old self, who actually believed she could cheer up an afflicted soul with such trivial gifts. Yet, despite this gullible mindset, you knew he would have smiled at you and, maybe, you regretted not having seen that for a last time. Perhaps, deep down, you were only seeking reassurance in the face of the inevitable and, in your attempts to comfort him, it was you the one who wanted to be consoled.

You weren't supposed to visit him in his condition but you really wanted to see your father, and if you pretended to nap then Nanna would leave you be for a while. Then you could take this opportunity to sneak out of your bedroom, unnoticed. If only you had known what would be waiting for you at the end of this seemingly adventurous trip.

The you from many years ago didn't have the same fears or concerns so, in a manner of speaking, you were oblivious to this foreseen conclusion. Or maybe you knew it all along and, instead, preferred lying to yourself for the simple reason you couldn't accept that your time with him was being stolen. But that day the blindfold on your eyes fell and you were forced to face the truth you had dreaded for so long.

Without a second to spare the woman had taken off running past you, screaming and wailing as she made haste down the corridor. Overwhelmed by an ever growing hysteria, she barely noticed your presence and you felt a chill on your skin at the deafening silence that lingered afterwards. You only heard the quiet shuffle of your footsteps and the sound of your breath as you approached your destination, uncertainty and fear clouding your mind. And yet it was all clear to you when the sight that would haunt you many nights after that day left you paralyzed. Your emotions were muddled and you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him, in spite of your desperate wish to do so.

You could have stood there until the end of time, for all you knew, but at some point a hand gently squeezed your shoulder and someone called your name. Startled at the intrusion, you turned to the source of the voice and then you were gazing into Nanna's grieved face.

"Come with me, (Y/N)," she said, above a whisper, and your heart ached when her eyes betrayed the promises she had made.

You flinched and gulped the lump in your throat. It didn't matter what you said. Nothing could change the truth or what you felt, yet your mind kept denying it— refusing to accept the fact that your father was gone, and you would never see him again.

"He is not breathing." The words left your lips in a hurtful reproach, and Nanna shook her head when you attempted to look at his lifeless body again. Holding your cheek, she forced you to divert your gaze away from such a wretched sight, but it was already burned into your memory despite her futile attempts to make you unsee or forget. Did she not understand this?

"No, don't," she pleaded, taking you in her arms and pressing your face against the crook of her neck. "For the love of the Savior, someone cover the baron's face!"

"With all due respect, Ms. Bellini, you should take her away. The knight captain and I need to handle this matter with utmost care in the face of this unfortunate event. The demise of a parent is not something that a child should witness, either way."

"You don't have to remind me of that, Dr. Leoni, but I do hope that you would at least have the sensitivity to speak about it in front of her."

"You're not protecting her by hiding the truth."

"And I presume you have quite a lot of expertise in that area, right?" Nanna's voice was dripping with derision, though you couldn't understand the reason of her animosity— not yet, at least.

"What are you trying to say? I'm warning you, Ms. Bellini, I will _not_ tolerate this offense on my personal and professional integrity!"

"Please, ma'am, doctor, this is not the time or the place to argue," said the knight captain in an effort to stop the altercation between Nanna and the doctor. "Let us not forget that, right now, we have a situation at hand that demands our immediate attention. Ma'am, I suggest that you take your leave with the young miss and refrain from interfering in our work, otherwise I shall have the knights remove you from this room. Believe me, it is not my wish to go to those lengths but I will have no other choice if you prove to be difficult."

Nanna's shoulders tensed and, for a long time, you wondered if her silence had meant to convey secrets that she didn't dare speak. The answer to this question eluded you, and you never considered to pursue it any further as you grew up in the fake contentment that sheltered you from this reminiscence. Even if you had asked her about it, Nanna would have probably told you that the past should remain where it belonged— that one shouldn't try to understand it but to accept it happened and couldn't be changed.

If only it were that easy to leave it behind, then you wouldn't be prisoners of the past. Humans wouldn't live enslaved to their memories, in a desperate attempt to find meaning to their existence however small or ephemeral it was.

As Nanna carried you in her sturdy arms, she walked away without another word. At that moment, you crumbled under the weight of this overpowering turmoil that gripped viciously at your heart. It was a pain that made you sick in the soul, and the aftermath of this misfortune brought naught but sleepless nights and nightmares when you were forced into a state of slumber— trapped in a world of horrors with no way to escape.

"Where is the baroness?" Nanna asked, doing very little to conceal her frustration at that point.

"She is reunited with her guests at the moment, and I'm afraid she won't be available for some time," came the squeaky voice of one of the maids that had tagged along. You could tell the young woman was distressed by the whole situation, as she struggled to keep an even tone in her voice. "We have already informed her of this... incident and she ordered we handle it with discretion."

Did she not care, at all? Her husband had just set fort on his journey to the afterlife and Agnese didn't seem to be concerned about it. Was she not even the slightest affected at these news? You didn't dwell on those thoughts, however, being too distraught by your own suffering and loss. Maybe you'd been selfish and self-centered, believing your misfortunes were the most tragic mankind had ever seen.

The closest experience you had with death until then had been when your grandfather passed away. Therefore, mortality wasn't a concept strange to you and you possessed a basic understanding of this ultimate fate. While you didn't actively seek to delve deeper into such topics, you had observed this undeniable truth in the smallest things of nature, even before you could reach a definitive conclusion. Humans weren't meant to last, and it proved to be the greatest irony of life that left you baffled— being born just to perish.

Your father had once explained that this existence was temporary, a flame that eventually faded, and you only were birds of passage in this world. There couldn't be death without having lived, and all that mattered was how people used the time that was given to them— how much they loved, and the decisions they made regarding how they chose to live. This was what Sparda taught humans, and so long as you were at peace with yourself there was nothing to fear nor regret in the end.

Grandfather fell asleep one night and never woke up. You were told that the Savior had called upon him, to the Fields of the Blessed— a place where there was no suffering, illness or death. Seeing him with such a serene expression on his face, as he lay in his coffin during his funeral, made you believe that he was in a better place and it helped you accept his parting.

However, you weren't so quick to find consolation when it was your father's turn to breathe his last.

Burying your tear-stained face on Nanna's shoulder, you asked her why did she lie to you if she knew that this would happen. Her silence spoke louder than words could ever have, as she carried you to the bedroom, and you cried that you hated her. Your words were cruel, and you were certain that even after many years they still affected her— something you regretted— but you were unable to stop them.

The flower crown slipped from your hands and lay discarded on the floor, much like your hopes. In your ignorance and unwillingness to see reason, you'd blamed others and opted to enclose yourself inside a shell of resentment and self-pity. Your heart had burned with anger at Sparda's inability to save someone you loved, not realizing that it wasn't his doing that you suffered neither was he to blame for the grievances that afflicted you.

He had already played his part in the salvation of mankind, bearing the heavy burden of a calamity its Great Sin had caused several millennia ago. When the kings of old and the greatest worshipers of evil, blinded by their mindless ambitions of power and a desire to live among their gods, sought to merge the human and demon realms, they released forces they weren't prepared to face. They brought destruction and darkness to the world, new home to their demonic rulers, and humans cried tears of blood.

Sparda could have left them all to die for their faults; after all, the wrath that poured from the heavens was of their own making. Anyone could have said that it was only fair their destiny should be to disappear, be erased from the memory of time, but he thought none of that. Even when he was a demon himself, a being humans should all fear and hate, his ability to feel compassion and love for someone else was unique and unprecedented in his kind. His love and justice revealed the path to redemption in a long perilous journey, and humans praised their father that came to their aid when they needed it the most.

The Savior had done too much for his children, surrendered his home and made himself a traitor among his brethren— lived a life of endless battles to ensure your race thrived in a new era, and that the terrible events of the past never transpired again. In his absence, humans had to learn to bear the burden of their own struggles as they patiently waited for his return.

* * *

It was during a spring afternoon that your father passed away. When the seeds that had been lying dormant beneath the earth sprouted after the freezing winter, the flowers bloomed and life flourished again, you had to bury him.

This wasn't something you wished to see. Why would your mind evoke reminiscences like these? Instead of being trapped in these memories, you wanted to go back to that place of happiness that was your retreat as a child— a world of vivid colors and streams that glittered under a blue sky. Your playground in dreams, you called it once, where you could be at peace.  
However, it wasn't long before a drastic disruption of your serene and comforting musings sent you into a state of alienation, as you attuned your mind to the voices of a world that seemed to be foreign— not part of you, and neither you a part of it. An angry voice clamored, then, and your heart clenched at the panic that began to overwhelm you.

_"How could you let this happen, Giovanna? I trusted you would take care of my daughter, that you would be with her at all times, and she nearly dies! Why did you take her to that fair? Why weren't you keeping an eye on her?"_

_"Forgive me, my lady. I looked away for a second and, when I called for her, (Y/N) had vanished without a trace! I couldn't find her anywhere, despite my best efforts."_

_"Your failure is inexcusable, and you know it. If it was not for the fact that you looked after me when I was a child, I would have you kicked out of this house immediately!"_

It was Agnese's voice, without a shadow of a doubt, and you could practically see her fume with rage as she berated Nanna. You realized that it was your fault she was on the receiving end of Agnese's wrath though, for some reason, you still couldn't recall the events that had transpired and this only served to confuse you even more. The idea that you had almost died terrified you to the core of your soul, but you wondered if this wasn't merely an illusion meant to deceive you— another nightmare that tormented you without end.

The knight captain spoke.

_"A young man happened to pass by and saved miss (Y/N) from drowning just in time, before we had to lament severe consequences. Would you not agree he deserves some kind of compensation, my lady? After all, he came to the rescue of your only child."_

_"Who is this youth you speak about? Send for him, at once. I would like to meet him personally. Let no one say that the baroness is not generous with those who gain her favor."_

Drowning...

Yes, you remembered the blue waters and the light of the sun above as you were dragged deeper and deeper into the darkness. Flashes of that desperate moment resurfaced, and you could even recall the horror of long cold limbs around your body. You still heard the screeches and growls of a terrible monster that had lured you into its trap, with the sweetest voice you had ever heard in your life.

That morning you had lost your way home, and your wandering steps had taken you to the quay.

The images that played after what you considered would be your demise were still blurry, darkened, preventing you from seeing what had really happened. There was another monster, that much you could tell, but no trace of your supposed savior. They said he was a only young man, not the Lord as you'd expected— wishful thinking on your part, you realized. Yet again, part of you feared that the insanity had returned and you were witnessing your mind falling to pieces. However, you knew better than to trust these visions, as they weren't always a reliable reflection of the truth but, then again, what did they exactly mirror?

Thankfully, the voices faded and you were alone in your own little world. Beautiful flowers of a kind you'd never seen before surrounded you, their fragrance fresh and enticing— even more so than the most expensive perfumes ladies used to wear during celebrations. Tall trees with warm-colored leaves provided shade, and a soft breeze played with your hair as you chased after butterflies that led the way. You followed the stream, listening to the songs of birds and the gentle gurgle of waters, until you reached a cascade.

But then your world of happiness turned dark and bleak before your eyes as the ground trembled under your feet. The trees died, the flowers withered and the waters were tinted in red, leaving only a wasteland where frozen winds blew. Their coldness hurt, bit at your skin, and though you wrapped your arms around your body to retain some warmth, it did little to give you relief. You heard the skies roar and growl, then saw that their once vibrant blue had become a sickly shade of gray as a vortex of black corruption spiraled without end— tainting with its miasmatic essence what had once been a place of innocence and bliss.

You continued your journey, roaming a barren terrain of forgotten ruins without any destination or knowledge of where you were going. The words which could best describe this visage were, probably, valley of death. Yet it wasn't a typical picture where bones and skulls abounded, or serpents scurried away in search of prey. It was worse than that, in fact. Even in the most extreme deserts of the world some kind of life, however sparse it was, could thrive and be sustained. However, there was nothing here. Only endless desolation and the desperate howl of the winds.

Nothing could ever hope to survive in this place but, then again, none of this could be real.

It seemed that you'd been roaming aimlessly for ages, without any rest, until a weak light shone in the distance. Without a second thought, you approached— already affected by the despondency and loneliness that permeated this vision. When you were close to a group of ruins, you distinguished what seemed to be a woman and her presence unsettled you as much as it surprised you. At a first glance, she appeared to be wearing black robes but on a closer inspection you noticed she was also covered in some kind of black butterflies— or moths, you weren't sure. They flew around her, and you kept your distance as you debated whether you should talk to her or leave.

The torches that surrounded her were inverted and didn't offer any warmth, as you'd hoped. The woman was sitting all by herself, mourning her pain as she rocked an empty crib covered in dead flowers. Her sobs didn't stop even as you neared and, though you should have feared her, deep inside you only felt pity.

"Why do you weep, my lady?" you asked before you could ponder your actions any further, but something inside you wished to ease her pain. "What have they have done to you to cause so much grief?"

Her laments ceased and the woman finally took notice of your presence, though she didn't turn around. A pregnant silence followed and you began to doubt your choices, but then she replied with what appeared to be many voices all merged into a single one.

"Everything that I once loved was taken away from me. Now there is nothing left..."

"Who did this to you?" At your question, the woman— or illusion— hesitated for a moment.

"It was me." Her reply confused you. How could that be? "It is because of my sins that I suffer in this place. I did something unforgivable and, now, salvation is beyond my reach."

She faced you then, and you flinched at the darkness that was concealed beneath the black hood of her robes. There was an abyss of emptiness and sorrows, and her features were nonexistent.

"Begone, little one. There is no place for you here..."

* * *

When you opened your eyes, you had hoped to return to what you called— for a lack of a more appropriate term— the 'real' world. However, something was wrong. It took you a few seconds to get your bearings but, when you did, the first thing you noticed was that your bedroom looked very strange. Everything had been turned upside down and you could barely begin to comprehend what was going on when you saw poor Nanna sitting near your canopy bed, wiping her tears with a handkerchief. You tried to call for her but she wouldn't listen, and your situation started to make sense when you were confronted with the reason why she was so distraught.

Watching your body slumber didn't make for an appealing visage. You looked as though you were on your deathbed and, for a moment, you feared that you were actually passing away. If that were to happen, then you'd be trapped here in the other world with no way to return. With this concern in mind, you willed yourself to descend until your feet touched the ground and tried to get back into your body but it remained unresponsive.

Another memory resurfaced, and you knew you'd been in similar circumstances in the past. For this reason, you didn't want to stay here for longer than was necessary but, no matter how hard you tried, you were unable to regain control of your corporeal frame. You wished you could wake up and tell Nanna that you were alright, if only to ease her suffering. After all, you were the one to blame for what had happened. If only you'd done as you were told, then none of this would have happened in the first place. Many of your mistakes could have been prevented had you listened to your elders, but it was said experience was and would always be the best teacher in life. Learn something with pain and shame, and it was almost guaranteed that you would never forget it.

Approaching Nanna, you wrapped your arms around her and whispered in her ear that she had nothing to worry about— that you would soon get well and she would have the opportunity to nag you again for your imprudence. You said that you were sorry for making her cry and that you loved her. Soon enough she was fast asleep in the armchair, and you kissed her goodnight before curling in bed next to your body.

Perhaps you should have gone to visit Agnese that night, but you had no wish to see her. If she was still furious at what had transpired, then it was better to wait for her anger to subside. To be honest, maybe you feared to find whether she truly cared about you other than being an extension of herself, so you remained confined in your bedroom. At least, you felt safer in there.

You didn't sleep and neither did you have the need to do it. Watching the moon in the sky until the sun rose wasn't as tedious or grueling as you imagined, but it was alright. Your existence wasn't very exciting, to begin with, but you couldn't say you minded that much.

Time went by and you settled in a rather dull routine of watching yourself sleep, odd as that sounded. On occasions, you saw the doctor check on your constitution and heard him comment on your progress. The worst had passed, apparently, and you should regain consciousness very soon. However, very soon, in your state, felt like an eternity and sometimes you were worried that you'd never open your eyes— just like your grandfather.

The next day, you heard Agnese had visit and she seemed to be quite pleased with her guests. You had little idea of who they were, and neither could you be bothered to go downstairs. Surely, they were the same old gentry that came to see her often and bathed her in flattery to be in her good graces— nothing of particular interest to you, at least. Either way, you didn't feel like leaving your room in this condition. Instead, you found entertainment in lounging in the settee by the window as you listened to the gossip of two unsuspecting maids. They were cleaning your bedroom while Nanna was away at the chapel, no doubt praying for your quick recovery. At first, you hadn't paid any attention to them but their constant chattering eventually piqued your interest, since you had nothing better to do.

"I can't believe it. Oh, he's such a handsome young man! Wait, that's not the appropriate word to describe him because he's not conventionally attractive, is he? When you look at him it's like... gazing upon a fine artwork. Beautiful and divine," the youngest one, an attractive brunette girl whom you recognized as Ofelia, said with a dreamy sigh.

"Indeed." Though not as enthusiastic as her friend, you could hear some eagerness in the woman's voice but then she frowned. "Too bad he doesn't seem to be very friendly and lacks the manners of a well-bred man. Did you see the way he glared at me when I served him coffee? I thought he was going to put me six feet under! That's not someone I'd like to be friends with."

Ofelia snorted and gave her a look of mockery. "That's only because you got too close to him. Do you even have any sense of personal space, Leila?"

"Well, I don't think that's a valid reason to look at me as if I had insulted his mother!" Leila complained, and Ofelia just shrugged her shoulders.

"At least he's a sight for sore eyes. Can't begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to see more of him. My days should be more interesting now that he's here..."

The smile on her face was hard to miss and you arched an eyebrow at it. Just who were they talking about?

"I can agree on that but don't even think about flirting with him. He doesn't look like the type of man to be swayed by a mere flash of breasts or legs... unlike those knights you're used to allure into your bedroom."

You blushed at those words, then shook your head and tried to ignore what they had said. Despite what you'd been taught to think about 'women of loose morals', it was none of your business what this girl did or stopped doing in her spare time.

"Aw, you're no fun. I was hoping to get a little smile from him, at least."

"I'm only trying to warn you, before you make a fool of yourself. Getting your hopes high won't do any good. Men like him are creatures only meant to be admired from a safe distance. Beneath a pretty face, there usually lies something ugly and I have the feeling he can be very cruel when he wants to be."

"But he came to the rescue of miss (Y/N)!"

Ah, so this was about that man...

"True that, but I'd still tread carefully if I were you. Though I really doubt he'd be interested in a simple maid. I'm starting to wonder if he would even be interested in  
_anyone_ , at all."

"Oh, thanks for ruining my joy," Ofelia said, rolling her eyes, and put on a pensive facade. "Now that you mention it, I wonder if he... you know, has particular interests and preferences."

The suggestion in her tone was curious, and you admitted it was quite amusing to see them so engrossed in their conversation concerning your savior— whose identity was still a mystery to you, though you weren't exactly in a hurry to meet him. After all, it was quite embarrassing being reminded of your mistakes, and how stupid you'd been to wander away, when you'd been told to be a good girl and obey. All that you knew about him was that he was supposed to be attractive— though you believed beauty was in the eyes of the beholder—, and that he seemed to be surly in the company of others.

"And you want to know because...?"

"Well, he's not very warm with women and looks a bit out of his element around them... even withdrawn. Now why would that be?" You wouldn't presume to be an expert in such matters, but you didn't think her reasoning was following any logic. Maybe you completely missed the point. It didn't matter anymore. "Or perhaps beneath that serious facade there's actually a closet pervert. You know what they say about the quiet ones. Wouldn't that be funny?"

Did she have to say that?

"You're overthinking this. I don't really care."

"Maybe you don't, but I do. Also I've noticed the lady seems to enjoy his company, despite his dour attitude." If it was true he wasn't very gifted in the ways of charm, then it was a wonder to you that Agnese could enjoy being in his company when she always craved honeyed words and deference from others. "Have you seen the look in her eyes? Do you think that she has taken—?"

" _Shh_ _,_ keep your mouth shut!" Leila urged with a fierce whisper, a look of dread crossing her features all of a sudden. "Are you daft?"

"What? It's not like I'm speaking lies. We know well the business she likes to do—!"

"We don't speak about that! The lady's business is her own and you should know better than to bring it up. If she hears you bad-mouthing like that, you'll be selling backside in the streets faster than you can say 'ah'."

What exactly were they arguing about? You surmised that they might have been referring to the independent spirit of a businesswoman that Agnese possessed. After all, as she owned a good portion of banking stocks and was proprietor of several important investments. Saying that Ofelia would have to resort to that kind of work had to be an exaggeration, but you knew that Agnese wasn't known for her kindness and compassion among her servants so they were terrified of their mistress.

"That's a little harsh, don't you think? Besides, who could possibly hear us?"

"What if the young miss does?" Leila looked at your direction— or the direction your body was, anyways. You snorted a little, trying to muffle your laughter whilst the woman eyed you with unease. What a surprise would it be if you told her that you listened to every word they had said. Probably not a good idea, however, lest you wanted people to spread rumors. Having them talk about the crazy daughter of the baroness wasn't something that would please Agnese, for sure. You didn't want a repetition of past nightmares, either, and you knew you wouldn't be treated kindly.

The two women argued some more and then left. Nanna appeared a while later and stayed in your room, reading an epic to Sparda and his glorious feats. Another of his most popular depictions showed him as a dark knight wearing a horned helmet, mounted on his white horse as he fought against a huge dragon-like beast. It was one of your favorite tales, when he saved a young maiden that was offered as sacrifice to appease the old god.

As you waited for her to turn a page, you peeked over her shoulder and soon realized that she'd fallen asleep again. With not much left to do, you returned to the settee and gazed at the stars of the night sky. When you were a child, you always tried to count them one by one but it was an impossible task that left you upset in the end— much to the amusement of your father.

There were occasions you missed those days when that was your greatest concern.

By the time the sun rose, you started feeling rather drowsy as your thoughts scattered and your vision faded. It seemed as if the world around you had vanished, and you were falling into the endless void.

When you woke up again, you were staring at the translucent white curtains of your bed. As the fog in your mind began to clear, and you came to realize that your stay in the other world had come to an end, a sudden pain afflicted your body when you tried to move. The room was still dark during the break of dawn, and it would have been silent had it not been for Nanna's constant snoring. At least she was by your side, so you couldn't complain about that.

"Nanna?" you groaned with a breathy whisper, hoping to get her attention. Another snore was your only response and, though you wished you could have spoken louder, your throat was parched and sore. Your next course of action was to crawl just a little and extend your hand towards her, until your fingers grazed her thigh and feebly tugged at her dress.

That worked, for sure. She jumped from her seat and squealed, sending the book on her lap tumbling to the floor. At first she didn't understand what was happening but, as soon as her eyes landed on you, Nanna breathed your name and practically threw her arms around your shoulders, kissing your forehead and cheeks.

"Oh, praised be merciful Sparda. He has heard my pleas!"

* * *

You'd been unconscious for a few days after your near drowning experience. The doctor came to do some examinations on you, first thing in the morning, and he administered antibiotics along with painkillers for the headache. Your prospect of recovery was, apparently, favorable given that you hadn't spent much time underwater. There would be some discomfort the first days but that was to be expected, and the fuzziness should eventually go away, or so he assured.

Despite your protests and embarrassment, Nanna insisted on feeding you. Of course you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself but, even after all these years, she still had a hard time accepting that you were no longer her little girl. You had to admit that, in many ways, you were a silly child who thought herself to be smart and you'd come to learn the dangers of a fool oblivious to their own ignorance.

"What... happened?" You weren't sure if you could trust your own senses anymore, so you wanted a reliable account from someone else.

"Do you not remember?" she asked with concern.

"A little..." You assured with a nod, trying not to panic her. "But it's all a blur."

"We visited the church to attend the morning mass, and then you asked me if we could have a look around the fair. On our way, we met Mrs. Pace by chance and congratulated her on the birth of her granddaughter. After that, I lost sight of you for a moment and you disappeared. I was hoping you could explain to me what happened, (Y/N). You had me so worried I thought I would go insane."

Again, you remembered this had been all your fault and looked down, unable to hold her gaze because you were too ashamed. "I'm really sorry for what I did, Nanna. It wasn't my intention to cause so much trouble for everyone. I just got distracted with a wedding parade and, when I was about to return, a sudden crowd gathered around me and I couldn't find you. Then I was dragged away. In the confusion I got scared and didn't know what to do."

"The knights searched for you high and low. How is it that you ended up at the quay?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I got lost trying to find the way back on my own. I know I should have asked for directions, but I didn't feel confident enough to do so."

"Do you remember what happened after that? How did you fall into the sea?"

You had no plausible explanation for this. What were you supposed to say? That you had hallucinated voices and followed them? Perhaps it would have been easier to tell her that a demon had attacked you, but what if that wasn't the way things had transpired? Should you not be on the brink of death, then? How could anyone survive such an encounter? You were certain it would be the end of your existence, yet... it felt like it had been just a bad dream.

"I... I can't recall very well," you mumbled timidly, hoping Nanna wouldn't see through your lie and how uncomfortable you felt.

"Were you alone?"

"Yes, I was." At the awkward silence that followed, you couldn't help but ask, rather hesitant, "was mother... too harsh on you?"

"Agnese was only worried about you. What matters now is that you are safe and will recover soon." She sighed and gave you a tired smile, petting your hair. Despite your concerns, her words put you at ease. "I know it was the hand of the Savior that young Aeneas happened to be nearby—"

"Aeneas?" You didn't know anyone who went by that name so, naturally, you were curious as to who she was referring. "Is he—?"

"The one who helped you, indeed."

"And what did he say?"

"He said that you seemed to have felt unwell all of a sudden because you fainted and fell into the water. Apparently, the handrail was rusty and in a bad shape so it gave under your weight when you leaned against it. Is that what happened, (Y/N)?"

There was no demon attack, then. It had been a figment of your imagination. No matter how real it felt, it was nothing more than an illusion of your mind. Were you even awake or was this just another dream? The idea terrified you.

"(Y/N)?"

Seeing no other escape, you nodded. "Yes. It all came to me now. I was not feeling very well."

She didn't look very convinced but the questioning stopped— for a while, at least. No doubt you'd have to give the knight captain an account of the events, so he could make a report on it for the record. Then everyone would move on and forget about this, for which you were grateful. To be honest, you couldn't wait for that to happen. After the embarrassment of the party, you were sure people believed you to be the girl who cried wolf.

But you could never imagine the wolf was closer than you thought.

You knew Nanna was worried about you, and she felt guilty for having let you out of her sight. Agnese had been furious at first— a reaction that was expected from her— but, somehow, her wrath had subsided and, though you couldn't understand why, you were glad that she was in a better mood.

One afternoon, when Dr. Leoni came to see how you were faring in your convalescence, you told Nanna that you wanted to go to the gardens. She didn't take long to try and make you desist.

"Are you sure you're feeling well to do that? You should rest some more."

"I am not dying," you replied with annoyance, before giving her an apologetic look. The day was warmer than you would have liked, and the heat was bothering you despite the ceiling fan spinning above. "Sorry. I would like to breathe some fresh air, that is all."

What you meant was that you wanted to get out of that room.

"Alright, but it depends on what the doctor recommends." Her words were curt as she spoke. For some reason, you always felt tension between Nanna and Leoni whenever they were in the same room— something that made you anxious. You asked Nanna about it on another opportunity but she told you that you were reading too much into it, and there was absolutely nothing wrong.

"You may go, yes, but don't be long. Otherwise, we're going to have a problem, young lady." The smile he gave you was a little unnerving, but you agreed to do as he said.

However, you needed a shower before anything. Your first apparition couldn't be in this unpresentable state and, when you were done, Nanna made sure that you looked your best. Thankfully you were spared the torture of corsets and, instead, were allowed to wear a simple chiffon dress.

"Oh, by the way, here's the hairpin you bought the other day. Would you like to wear it?" Nanna asked, once she had styled your hair.

You looked at the colorful butterfly in her hand and forced yourself to smile. "Yes, please."

"There..." She fastened the pin on your tresses and placed her hands on your shoulders, gazing at your reflection in the mirror. "All done, little sparrow. Now let us go outside."

"Hopefully mother won't mind that I want to take a little stroll."

"I don't think she will." There was some uncertainty and awkwardness in her voice but she quickly composed herself. "Don't worry. If Agnese is not pleased, we'll tell her that the doctor gave you permission."

You headed downstairs and, by the time you were midway, Nanna began to wish your bedroom wasn't at the top floor. She still had some pain in her joints and bones, so you had to make a few stops for her to rest. It made you feel guilty for having put her in so much distress during the past days, and you decided she would retire to her bedroom earlier that evening. The idea of Nanna exerting herself wasn't something you liked, so you would just sit in the gardens and have some refreshments. You had a mighty craving for something sweet.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of Agnese's laughter caught your attention and you were drawn to it— curious as to what was the cause of such manifest glee. But before you could take another step, Nanna held your arm and stopped you.

"What's wrong?" you asked her, confused, but she only gave you a worried look and shook her head.

"We should probably be on our way and not bother your mother. She's busy at the moment with a guest."

You considered her advice, but this was Agnese who you were talking about. "Would it not be better to let her know I am not in bed? I don't think mother will appreciate being ignored. Besides, I haven't been the most obedient child as of late, and it would be best to make amends after what happened."

Despite her protests, you approached the sitting room from where Agnese's voice came. The door was ajar, and you took this chance to catch a glimpse inside. Agnese was sitting in a sofa with the biggest smile on her face, something that struck you as odd. You also noticed she was in the company of a man, but you couldn't see him very clearly from where you stood as he was facing away. However, you could distinguish that he was of old age due to his white hair. Though you had little idea of who he could be, it didn't escape your attention how pleased Agnese appeared to be.

Whilst you tried to decide what to do, your presence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"(Y/N)?" called Agnese, startling you. Given the confounded expression she wore, she wasn't expecting to see you but you couldn't detect any signs of upset coming from her. Throwing a glance at Nanna, in an attempt to call for her aid, she nodded and encouraged you to go forth.

"I'll be waiting for you, little potato," came her whisper.

You snorted under your breath, trying to muffle your laughter, but pretended to be irked and glared at Nanna for calling you that. This, of course, made Agnese arch an inquisitive eyebrow at the scene and you cleared your throat with awkwardness before stepping inside.

"Good afternoon, mother." It was embarrassing enough to be caught eavesdropping— even though you didn't hear much of their conversation. Running away would make you look even worse.

"What a pleasant surprise!" As she fiddled with the fan in her hands, you couldn't help but take in the slight flush on her cheeks. Looking back, perhaps you were the only person who believed it might have been the heat of summer affecting her. "Should you not be in bed, my dear?"

"I wanted... to go outside and the doctor gave me permission."

"Oh, is that so? Well, it doesn't matter either way. Come here, my child." She extended her hand in your direction and beckoned you to draw near. "Since you're here, I would like you to meet a very special guest."

You did as you were told and approached Agnese with uncertainty, your gaze drifting to said visitor in the room. When you entered his line of vision, the man turned his head slightly to observe you from his seat and then you stopped dead in your tracks— breath catching in your throat when you had the chance to behold his countenance for the first time. Your initial assumptions had been wrong all along, for he wasn't an elder as you'd thought. On the contrary, he couldn't be a day over his twenties despite the unusual color of his hair.

No doubt he was the young man Ofelia and Leila were talking about. For a moment you were taken aback, due to your unexpected findings, but you composed yourself— though uneasiness still churned in your stomach.

Once you stood by her side, you were able to have a better look at his features. They were sharp but not harsh to the eye, sporting high cheekbones with a strong jaw. His hair was styled in a slicked back fashion, giving him a more mature air as it accentuated his serious expression. It probably made him look older than he was.

"This my beloved daughter, (Y/N)," Agnese spoke, holding your hand in hers whilst petting your hair— to your utter confusion. This wasn't her usual behavior, but you wouldn't question her actions or contradict her. In truth, it made you happy that she cared and in return you offered a tiny smile, knowing that she wasn't mad at you despite your error in judgment. "This is Aeneas, my dear; the man who had the kindness to see to your safe return. I know you've already met, in rather dire circumstances... unfortunately. However, I thank the Savior that he was there to deliver you from certain death."

Your gaze met his, as Agnese went on her speech. It appeared as if neither of you were paying attention to what she was saying, but it was most likely you whose mind was wandering away into those blue eyes that scrutinized you with unknown intent.

You knew it was rude to stare at other people, but it was difficult to look away from him. Of course, he was extremely attractive— to deny it would have been a lie— but something in the back of your mind had begun to bother you at that moment. There was this certain familiarity about him that perplexed you, though you had no idea why could that be. Maybe you were just confused after all these unusual events...

The bags under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights. For all his beauty, his gaze told you that on the inside he was wearied and there was an aura of danger and gloom surrounding him. He definitely wasn't the type of person you imagined would rush to the rescue of someone in need, but you didn't dare make any more assumptions on a complete stranger. From the way he regarded you, however, you had an inkling that this man held some sort of grudge against you. It was impossible to explain why you felt that way, for you'd never seen him in your entire life, but you perceived hidden hostility coming from him in the way his chiseled aquiline nose scrunched ever so slightly and his lips thinned at the sight of you.

"For a mother, her children are her most precious treasure and I am forever indebted to you for what you've done." Turning to you, Agnese gave you an expectant look and her words startled you into embarrassment. "(Y/N), why are you standing there like a scared hare? Be a good girl and thank him properly."

You wished Nanna was there to guide you, so you wouldn't feel lost. Unsure of how to proceed, you took some hesitant steps towards Aeneas until you were at a close but safe distance from him. To be honest, you were wary of this man and remembered what the maids had said about him not being very warm with others. Most certainly he wasn't one to be keen on pleasantries, and you wondered why Agnese was so zealous in the first place.

Doing as she commanded, you curtsied rather rigidly in an effort not to appear uncouth while avoiding to look at him. "You have my sincerest gratitude, sir. I will never forget what you did for me."

Well, that didn't sound very sincere for sure.

Aeneas reciprocated with the enthusiasm of a rock, though you weren't much jolly to begin with. A curt nod with a grunt was all he offered, and you made no further attempts to speak as you glanced at Agnese— uncertain what to make of him. It was a little difficult to decide whether Aeneas was by any chance socially awkward, or rudeness was an elemental part of his character. Either way, Agnese was charmed and she barely paid any attention to his lack of etiquette or she didn't care.

Despite everything, you understood she was smitten by his fair looks but something about Aeneas made you uneasy and you sensed ill-intent coming from him. You tried not to judge him all too soon, however. Perhaps he was shy and unsure of how to act around strangers, much like you were.

"I do not think I can ever repay such handsome generosity on your part but, if you will allow me, I shall make sure that your deeds won't go without compensation." Opening her fan, she waved it about while giving him a coy smile. "Please, stay in our home for as long as you wish. You're my guest of honor, and it would be a pleasure to be in your company."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers at her words. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Was she serious about asking this man to stay?! Agnese had been so concerned about the security of the estate not long ago, yet all of a sudden she intended to house a complete stranger? You didn't understand what had driven her to make that decision. Without a doubt she was grateful that he saved her only daughter, but this seemed to be a little too much. What could she possibly know about this Aeneas man? Who knew what intentions did he have or what kind of person he was.

There was definitively something uncanny  about him; you felt it in your gut, but you couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for that. His presence troubled you and, though you wanted to believe that it was your mind playing tricks on you again, you were not so sure. For some motive you were unaware of, he didn't like you but you didn't trust him in return.

Your father used to say that life was a box full of surprises, and it was at that moment that you found truth in his words.

What you failed to realize, however, was that you had inadvertently opened Pandora's box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really long chapter! I seem to go overboard with details and stuff orz.
> 
> As you already know, I chose the name Aeneas (pronounced iˈniːəs) as an alias for Vergil. I don't believe he would reveal his true name to people he doesn't really know, nor it is necessary. Why Aeneas? It's the name of the protagonist of the Aeneid, written by the poet Virgil, so I thought it would be fitting. Also, I love the name. I believe it means "praiseworthy" but I've also read another of its meanings is "terrible grief".
> 
> Also, yes, the briefly-mentioned tale of Sparda and the maiden was taken from the legend of Saint George and the dragon.
> 
> Thanks again for the support ;u; I really appreciate all the kind words and the encouragement. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and feedback is appreciated. See ya next time! ♥


	5. Dejá Vu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter out, and sooner than I thought! The only explanation for this miracle is that I must be… *insert Vergil voice clip here* _MOTIVATED!_ Ok, sorry. Sometimes I like to think I’m funny. Just pretend I never said that, alright? I’m embarrassed right now.
> 
> This chapter was turning out to be much, much longer than intended so I had to split it in two parts. Otherwise it would have had an insane length and, also, I felt the need to post something soon. No worries, that this one is about 10,000+ words so you’ll have a lot to read. Me and my bad habit of writing long a** fics, as of late.
> 
> I have things planned for this story-line. Well, I hope I can fit all these ideas in here anyways. Yes, there will be some expected twists and turns (a salty Vergil, too, for good measure so he’s as IC as possible throughout the whole thing) but there will also be plot twists— or I pray that’s your impression, at least!
> 
> As I may have already mentioned, it’s going to be a slowburn “romance” because… this is Vergil we’re talking about. A relationship with some human girl (or anyone, for that matter) is the last thing on his mind, but not to fret because stuff will happen in the meantime till we get there.
> 
> Thanks to the people following this fic, who leave kudos and comments. Oh gosh, I love it when I can read your thoughts on my works! ♥♥
> 
> A shout-out to my beautiful friends Lucia and Lala, who help me endlessly and put up with me throughout the whole writing process— you don’t want to see me in that state, I kid you not. They are a blessing in my life ;A;
> 
> Last but not least, thanks to my lovely Alexandra who reads my stories with patience and is always so sweet and amazing!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. OCs. Slow burn fic. Vergil/Aeneas is a jerk but we already knew that ;)

**Part** **IV** **:** _Dejá_ _Vu_

That evening you and Nanna retired to her chambers, at your insistence that she needed her rest. After all the distress she had gone through, because of your careless actions, you wanted to ensure that she didn’t exert herself any further than she already had.

At first, she tried to argue and convince you that her health was in perfect condition but, as the obstinate girl that you could be sometimes, you stood firm in your decision. Nanna knew very well that you wouldn’t concede and, though you didn’t approve of emotional blackmail to get what you wanted, you had to threaten that you wouldn’t be in good terms if she kept neglecting herself. In the end she had to do as you said, so you ushered her to her bedroom to make sure that she would not fool you.

Nanna was still worried about you, true, but you weren’t on the brink of death— neither was your constitution so fragile to merit her restless nights. You surmised this was a consequence of the remorse she felt after father passed away, but you couldn’t blame her for what she had done. How was she supposed to tell a child that her parent was dying and would no longer be part of this world? How could she have even said something about it, when Agnese wanted to keep you in the dark? For better or for worse, you always believed that Nanna’s choices— as erroneous as some of them could have been, and in spite of how much they hurt you— were made with your best interests in mind.

It was nothing new that she made a fuss when it came to your well-being. This trait was merely a part of her character and, while it never bothered you too much, at times you wished Nanna would be a little more careful. She was getting older with each passing day, and her strength was waning. While it appeared to have escaped Agnese’s notice, it didn’t yours and you knew how tired Nanna had become in the past years. Perhaps after you had married, and left this house to form a family of your own, she would decide to retire— at long last— and spend her last days enjoying the fruits of her labor.

Sweet Nanna deserved that, at the very least. With no children of her own, you worried how she would fare after you were gone to live with your future husband— whom you had no idea who could he be. In your situation, Agnese hadn’t arranged for an engagement… yet. It was not hard to guess she was speculating as to who would be the better choice, in accordance to her interests. At that point, you only hoped to find him agreeable when your families reached a compromise.

As it was, your old nanny had been under the service of this family for a long time— even more important, she had dedicated her whole life to Agnese and you without question or complaints. If only your lady mother could have seen the extent of Nanna’s love and be more appreciative of what she had sacrificed for her sake.

Your stay in the gardens had improved your mood considerably, in spite of the troubled emotions that lingered after your unexpected meeting with Aeneas. While you made no mention of his presence, neither did you attempt to find more about him, just then, thoughts of this stranger had already begun to occupy your mind— although not for the nicest of reasons.

Of course, as the rumors had rightfully said, Aeneas was a man of incomparable beauty. Added a dose of mystery and aloofness to the mixture, it was a sure way to catch the attention of those around him— if not, enthrall their hearts. If you were to be honest, no man or woman you knew could have ever hoped to compete with him in such unfair terms. There was a certain magnetism to his appearance that would compel anyone to stay a little longer, and behold his fair countenance. Nonetheless, he had an aura of hostility that warned others to stay away— something dark that disturbed your soul deep inside.

And you didn’t like it in the slightest.

Nanna and you sat under the shade of a gazebo, surrounded by flower beds of varied layouts and colors. Agnese was very fond of beautiful gardens and hadn’t given it a second thought in spending a fortune on them, for her personal delight. Even you, as uninterested as you were in her life pursuits, had to agree that it was an exquisite sight to lay eyes on.

This was a place that you always frequented and the amenable environs, more often than not, made you lose track of time. Contemplation and daydream were sure to ensnare you in the gentle caress of the floral breeze and the sweet songs of birds. The murmur of clear waters, spraying and pooling inside ponds covered in turquoise tiles, comforted you as you basked in the joy of this slice of heaven. This was the closest you would ever get to paradise on Earth, and if it was anything like the Fields of the Blessed then you hoped father was happy on the other side.

But while you dearly tried to find respite that afternoon, your mind refused to be indulging.

Dinner transpired in the company of Aeneas, but you didn’t participate. Instead, you retired for the night— since you were supposed to be in bed, by then— and ate with Nanna in your bedroom. When you were done, she intended to put you to sleep but you were having none of that. This time, you had to be the one looking after her.

You offered to massage her swollen legs and joints, with an ointment meant to ease her discomfort and improve the circulation of blood. She opposed at first but you convinced her to let you help.

Obviously, you didn’t mind doing these favors for Nanna. In fact, it was the least you could do to thank her for all the care and affection she had given you. Nanna was a motherly figure to you, maybe even more so than Agnese had ever been in all those years. If there was someone who showed you warmth and love when father was gone, and stayed by your side despite the resentment you held, it was her.

Agnese lived in her own world, but you tried to be understanding regardless of your disappointment.

If the baroness had known about this, she would not have let you hear the end of it. Her daughter doing something so lowly, as touching the feet of a mere servant, was unthinkable. Even if it happened the be the woman who had changed her diapers, and endured her endless tantrums, when Agnese was a capricious little girl— eating dirt, slobbering on her first and, in general, craving for the attention of those around her.

Oh, yes, you knew all too well about those childhood episodes, but Agnese liked to believe she had always been a graceful white dove. It was something you found funny, though Nanna had made you swear that you’d never bring up the subject in her presence. Not a single mention about the embarrassment of Agnese’s infancy should ever leave your lips.

Thank the Savior, your nanny didn’t have to put up with those kinds of situations anymore. Neither with the imp you used to be, though Nanna once assured she would have preferred that you stayed a baby girl. When children were small and innocent, life and its problems were much simpler but as they grew up the challenges became more grueling to face.

You underestimated those words, back then.

“I don’t know, Nanna.” Eyeing the manual on reflexology techniques, lying by your side, you gently rubbed a certain spot on the sole of her feet with your thumbs. “That man… there’s something about him that tells me he’s not to be trusted. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I do not like him and I’m worried that mother has offered him to stay with us.”

Even if he had ill intent, it was unlikely he could do something against anyone living in your house, with the knights guarding the well-being of your family. While it wasn’t an absolute safeguard, given the bizarre encounter you experienced with the cloaked stranger— though that was actually debatable, in the absence of concrete evidence and the implication of your apparent delirium— at least it should have provided some peace of mind.

However, it didn’t.

“(Y/N), you’re doing it again…”

Even before looking at her, you could sense the disapproving look she was sending your way.

“Doing what?” Pausing in your reflections, and in the task at hand, you met her gaze— oh, were you right about that furrow of her brows— unsure as to what she meant.

“Worrying too much. I swear that, by the time you reach thirty, your head is going to be all covered in gray hair. Why must you insist on finding something to stress about?”

You huffed and crossed your arms, in disbelief at her words. “You cannot tell me you’re not even a bit bothered by this! A stranger in our house… who knows what could happen? I understand that he did a very noble deed for me, and that mother is grateful, but who’s to say that he does not have other intentions?”

Nanna tried to dismiss your concerns, maybe in an effort to make you forget such matters and be at ease. “Ah, you are getting too anxious over nothing. I’m sure that everything will be fine, you’ll see. Either way, there’s not much we can do, (Y/N). Your mother already seems to be… fond of that young man, and she has her reasons to feel this way. Besides, I do not believe Aeneas will be staying for very long.” She made a face that spoke of discomforts and doubts that did nothing to appease your fears, however. “Or that is what I hope, at least…”

“You say that she has taken a liking to him…” You arched an eyebrow at her. “A man she barely knows?”

Nanna only gazed at you with guilt etched on her face, before hurrying to reply. “Well, it was to be expected. He saved _you_ , her only daughter. Would you not be grateful if you were in her place? What if you had died back there? Oh, by the mercy of the great Sparda, I don’t want to think what would have happened…”

“Yes, I am aware of that but why would she allow him to stay? Does he not have somewhere else to go— _something_ to do?”

Her chuckle made you frown, whilst you observed a mischievous smile play on her lips. “And here I was fretting you might find that young man a little too pleasant to look at… like some of the girls in this household. I though that you would be infatuated with him at first sight but, instead, you’re in a hurry for him to leave!”

Your eyes widened at the lone suggestion that you could like him in that sense. Of course you didn’t blame those women for taking a fancy on Aeneas, but that wasn’t the point of this conversation!

“Nanna, do not jest with me. I am serious about this.”

She cleared her throat and regarded you with earnestness. “Alright, forgive me for that. As for Aeneas, I heard that he’s come from America. That is why your mother offered him abode in this house.”

“America?!” you squealed in surprise, unable to control your outburst at her revelation. Nanna made a hushing sound and, realizing your mistake, you mumbled an embarrassed apology. After you found composure, you spoke with demure, “but that’s beyond a huge ocean, on the other side of the world! What reason could he have to be here?”

This island wasn’t much of an interesting destination for travelers, although foreigners weren’t unheard of. Fortuna was a close-knit community that had endeavored to preserve its customs, and traditions, throughout the generations. Therefore, it didn’t allow many influences of the outside world that could threaten the identity and hegemony of its culture. However, this didn’t mean that tourism wasn’t an occurrence from time to time, but it was still a small market in development. With the stories and rumors that had spread about this place, many tried to steer clear from it.

In a way it seemed you were an oddity to the rest of the world, more or less— not to mention an outrage for other religions that had tried to destroy your beliefs in the past. There were people that still considered you to be some kind of demented cult that made human sacrifices in honor of their demon overlords. A most ridiculous notion born from ignorance and misinformation, it went without saying.

Times changed and humans were forced to play along with the designs of Lady Fortune— who decides the fates of entire civilizations on her wheel— as they always had. But there is no luck, whether good or bad, that lasts an eternity and one should be hopeful as well as careful to remember that.

It was with the spread of modernism, as ironical as it sounded for a traditional society such as yours, that your people saw an opportunity for progress. A chance to trade a world trapped in years of fear, and obscurity, for a better tomorrow. So in the light of these absurd tales that others enjoyed to concoct in vivid detail, Fortunians aimed to cleanse their reputation and, for this reason, opened the doors to their home. It was to show others that your community was civilized and hospitable. You had learned to thrive in peace, despite a history of violence, and were willing to cultivate relations with other states, in order to favor trade and the betterment of the economy for all parties involved.

“It would have been rude to send him away without any kind of courtesy or compensation. This is a mere formality, and a polite gesture that Agnese wishes to bestow upon him. I do not see why you’re so against it.”

She was right for the most part. If only you could be more precise with your words and find an actual motive upon which to lay the foundations of your concerns. Sure, there were many red flags waving in the deep recesses of your mind but, despite your attempts to apply logic in your thoughts, you always came empty-handed regarding why Aeneas seemed to present a danger. You were certain that his grouchy expression, or his rather indifferent attitude towards others, couldn’t be used as excuses for that. The man had done nothing that could be considered suspicious per se, but it wasn’t enough to dispel your doubts.

“In that case, then I should be more at ease,” said Nanna, to your confusion. “With the way other girls talked about him, I worried that he might have easily swayed your heart.”

She couldn’t be serious about it. You hoped this wasn’t the case, at least.

“ _Ha!_ Even if that was his intention, which I highly doubt, he would need to try harder. Besides, the man looked so miserable when we met that I’m very much surprised he could have the ability to enrapture anyone— let alone my mother, of all people. Would it be too risky to think she’s the one who finds him attractive, after all?”

“What are you saying? Be more respectful of your mother, young lady!”

You should have seen that coming from a mile. Even if Agnese treated her poorly, at times, Nanna would never let you badmouth her.

“It was a simple observation,” you offered as defense. “I would not presume to make such a daring judgment.”

Nanna looked relieved with your response, and her features softened. “Bah, maybe he’s just one of those nosy investigators that have nothing better to do with their time. Remember that the Festival of the Sword is approaching soon. From what I’ve heard, he is making some sort of study on our religion— for personal reasons. It would appear that Aeneas is not keen on sharing tidbits of his private life, much any less with me, so I wouldn’t know what else to tell you.”

That was true. People who visited Fortuna were, for the most part, researchers that wished to learn more of your society and history, or journalists seeking sensational stories on the occult. There were even those that craved danger and adventure, hoping to have some kind of supernatural encounter with demonic beings. When you thought about it, maybe the paranormal tourism could have been a profitable market… if Fortuna wasn’t so bent on giving the impression of an ordinary place.

Either way, Aeneas didn’t appear to be any of those types of travelers but there was no way you could determine his true motives as of yet.

“And you don’t think that merits enough attention? We are ignorant of what he really intends to do, and if he has something to hide then it means he’s up to no good. I cannot believe mother has agreed to this. And even if it was true that he’s making research, are we supposed to be some kind of rare species for him to observe in their natural habitat? He could very well be trying to smear on the reputation we’ve been building for years. Words and facts can be twisted; lies become truths when there are enough people willing to believe them.”

“Do you honestly think Agnese has not assessed this young man already, or that she is incapable of protecting her own interests?”

“That’s not what I—”

“If Aeneas wants to make his research here, then we’ll limit our relationship with him to that purpose. You don’t have to become his friend or be happy with his presence.”

“But if he—”

“And that will be the end of the story.”

“Are you—?”

“(Y/N), what are you so afraid of? One would think that this man has offended you, somehow. Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

“No.” Your reply was swift and confident, but Nanna wasn’t convinced by it despite your efforts to cover up your disgruntlement.

“Are you sure?” She was suspicious of your strange behavior already. To be honest, you wished you could have had a solid argument against him, but your problem was that precisely— you had none. A hunch wasn’t enough to call Agnese’s decisions into question.

Clearing your throat, you regarded her with a blank stare. “There’s nothing else to add to this story. I was at the quay, approached the rail, fell into the sea and almost drowned. Then Aeneas appeared in our lives, and mother thought it would be a fantastic idea to let this outsider stay with us. Why should I have to explain that?”

“Because you’re not being yourself. I know there is something bothering you but, unless you tell me, I cannot help you. You’re expecting others to read your mind and immediately know what’s troubling you.”

“Enough!” you snapped, making Nanna flinch at your sudden reaction. “I don’t understand your need need to probe me for answers that I have already given you.”

Answers that you knew were wrong.

Nanna narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips. “You’re acting like an upset little girl when things don’t go her way. If you didn’t want to talk about it, then why even mention the topic in the first place?”

Her tone was harsh and surely made you realize how rude you’d been when she only meant well. A patient didn’t go to a physician, seeking treatment for an illness, only to refuse any help when he was asked of his condition.

You didn’t know what to say, so your first instinct was to lower your gaze— embarrassed at your outburst, again. Why could you not find temperance in your own emotions and thoughts? Nanna was right; you were throwing a tantrum like a child, instead of trying to be more pragmatic.

Ever since you realized that the demon attack wasn’t real, that encounter with the cloaked stranger, you felt on edge… in constant fear that you were losing touch with reality little by little. Maybe it was true. You were probably losing your mind and, in the end, you would drive those you loved away.

“(Y/N)…” she mumbled but you didn’t answer, which prompted another soft call from her. “Come here, please.”

You couldn’t do that, knowing that you’d wronged her unfairly. Right then, you were like an ostrich that had stuck its head in the sand and refused to acknowledge her.

This wouldn’t do for her, however. With some difficulty, Nanna sat up— groaning all the while, as she struggled with the weight of her body and her tired muscles. Forsaking your ashamed stupor, you shook your head and told her to stay put. Despite your protests, she didn’t listen.

“I’m sorry for being terrible, Nanna. I must be an annoyance to you.”

Placing an arm around your shoulders, she brought you closer to her. “You never are a nuisance for me, (Y/N). I forbid you to think like that ever again, do you hear me?”

Here you were claiming to be worried about her health, yet you kept throwing your fears and animosity at her. Oh, how could she even put up with you?

“I did not mean to…”

“I know you didn’t and, to tell you the truth, I understand your suspicions about Aeneas. I am a little worried, too, but I don’t think he should be reason for you to lose your nerve or sleep.”

“I surely hope he is not.” Laughing under your breath, you rested your cheek against her and stared at your naked toes. Then, a thought came to mind and you frowned with determination. “However, rest assured that I will be keeping an eye on him… just in case.”

At that moment, Nanna seized your shoulders and held you at arm’s length, narrowing her green eyes. Meanwhile, you began to regret having said those words.

“I don’t know what you are planning to do but, _please_ , try to stay out of trouble this time.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” You feigned not to understand what she was talking about, but you should have known by then that it was futile to try and fool her.

“You know what I mean, (Y/N). For your own good, you’d better heed my advice.”

You sighed with weariness and rolled your eyes, pursing your lips tight before trying to smile. “Very well, I will. Do not worry about me.”

Nanna nodded, pleased at your reply, though you didn’t know whether to feel relief or remorse. “That is enough for now. Thank you, little sparrow. I’m feeling much better after such a wonderful massage. I swear those hands of yours are divine.”

Her words elicited a chuckle from you. “Oh, please. Even I can tell you’re trying too hard to flatter me. We both know you only say that so I keep rubbing your sore feet because no one else will.”

“I wouldn’t say it if it was not the truth!” She put on an offended expression and you laughed, patting her back.

“Of course.” You glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that it was getting late. “Well, as much as I would love to stay and talk some more, I should be going to bed.”

“That’s right; off to bed with you! You should be sleeping by now, and I don’t want to hear you’ve been reading until late hours of the night.” She shooed you, while you stood up and gathered the book with the blankets piled in a bunch by her feet.

“Yes, ma'am!” Once you had tucked her in bed, and kissed her forehead, she gave you a look of nostalgia that had you wondering if there was something wrong. “What’s on your mind?”

She shook her head, smiling. “Nothing of importance, but it is odd to see that our roles have reversed.”

“Really? Is it so strange that I do these things for you?”

“Ah, you don’t understand, (Y/N)I. When you were a little child, clinging to my dress, it was me who tucked you in bed and kissed you goodnight.”

“Well…” you pinched her chubby cheeks and giggled. “Now it’s me the one doing that.”

“I wish you would have never grown up,” she said suddenly, catching you off guard. “I wish no one would take you from me. Forgive me for being so selfish, my girl.”

Your heart ached at the sorrow in her eyes, and you sought the right words to comfort her despite your dismay. For a moment, you understood what she had gone through when your father was dying, and you felt sorry for having been less than compassionate. You knew that, deep down, she was scared of the future and, if truth be told, and as odd as it sounded… so were you.

“Then I’ll tell my husband-to-be that, if he wishes to marry me, he will have to accept my cherished old nanny as part of the deal as well. What do you think about that, Ms. Giovanna?”

“Well, it’s unlikely Agnese will agree with that condition.”

You placed a finger on your lips and spoke in a tone above a whisper. “ _Shh_ , she doesn’t have to know. We’ll smuggle you out of this house when the time comes.”

Her laughter warmed your heart, and you were content to see her happy. “Oh, (Y/N)… what would I do without you?”

“Well, for starters you would be lying in bed, complaining about sore feet and achy joints.”

“That is why I have you.”

“Do not push your luck,” you told her with a sly smile and then wished her goodnight. Again, she reminded you not to get in trouble and you squinted your eyes at her as you walked out of her bedroom.

To be fair, you sensed it was going to be difficult to keep your word, but you didn’t believe the consequences would be severe. All you knew was that you had to tread carefully, but how far would you be allowed to go, before you were caught in a trap?

With no leads, you’d have to wait and see how the situation developed. Nothing else. After all, there was no actual reason for you to be so paranoid about the presence of a simple man, and you needed to let go of this sudden trepidation lingering inside.

If only it were so easy.

* * *

Despite Nanna’s advice for you to sleep, you couldn’t surrender your soul to the world of dreams. After the experience you had undergone, you weren’t in a hurry to go to that place again where illusions became a bizarre and scary reality.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you’d retrieved the Song of Ilium— from its place in the drawer of your oddly neat desk— and it wasn’t long before your nose was buried in its pages. It belonged to the beloved collection of your father, Teofilo— one of several literary compositions that he had treasured throughout his lifetime. Like his grandfather before him, he’d been fond of compiling these works in their original languages, given his fascination with philology from a very young age.

It wasn’t too hard to guess that you held affection for these books, though your love didn’t exactly spring from any natural attachment to literature. Diving in those pages made you feel at home again, reminded you of the times father had read stories for you before tucking you in bed. They brought back happy memories when he was still with you, and every time you read them you hoped to hear his comforting voice once more.

You could recall those long afternoons you spent in his study, sitting on his lap as you assimilated the knowledge he shared with diligent interest. Each day with him presented a new challenge that you endeavored to conquer. There were occasions that Nanna had to drag you out of there when he was very busy, and you had your own obligations, though he always promised to see you before going to bed. No matter what, he always kept his word.

And his riddles. Oh, they were one of your favorite parts— a treat for your curious and restless mind. As easy or as difficult as they could be, you never turned down an opportunity to find answers for puzzling questions. Sometimes it would take you days to figure them out, if they proved to be especially tricky to piece together. But even when he offered to reveal the solution, and teased you to give up, you wouldn’t admit defeat. The thrill of accomplishment was too much for you to surrender, and father was well aware of that. Perhaps he found it hilarious when you crossed your chubby arms, furrowed your brows, and answered with a squeaky ‘no’.

However, his last riddle before he passed away had left you in a dead end. You recalled the words he had said when you saw him alive for the last time, despite Agnese’s wishes, and asked him to tell you a riddle. You’d assured him that you would have the answer the next time you visited.

_“It is weightless and carefree as a child, but the more you carry it in time… a ponderous weight it becomes.”_

Several years after his passing, you still had little idea of what he had meant. If that wasn’t enough, to add to your bewilderment, he said that in all probability its meaning would be lost until you were much older, and you wondered why would you have to wait so that you could comprehend at long last. To be honest, this was a secret you’d never shared with anyone else. Never did you ask others about this riddle because you wanted to find the answers yourself. You believed it was for the best to heed your father’s words and reach that understanding he spoke about, a knowledge that only time could bestow.

As you curled in bed with the Song of Ilium in your hands, you noticed the cotton bookmark you had placed in Book XVIII and decided to continue from that particular page. However, even as you became immersed in the story of the epic, you realized— much to your chagrin— that this wasn’t the most suitable way to dismiss concerns from your mind.

Aeneas…

_Aeneas._

The mythical hero, of course. Why did the connection not occur to you before? It felt like you’d completely forgotten about it. Needless to say, this wasn’t helping matters at all but you wouldn’t let the thought of him take your enjoyment away.

It shouldn’t have bothered you that much. However, the more you kept reading that name… the more you began to associate his face with that of the Dardanian prince. That could have worked better, if it wasn’t for the fact that the Aeneas from the book spoke far more than you imagined the other Aeneas had probably done in his entire life. No doubt that was an exaggeration, but your point still stood.

You weren’t satisfied with that comparison. Maybe he could be arrogant, cruel and selfish like proud Achilles, instead of the embodiment of Roman virtues Aeneas was supposed to be in the Aeneid? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, but it was a good question as any. Then again, why did you care?

Just when you decided to call it a night, your stomach growled in hunger.

Trying to get some sleep like this would be futile, so you set the book aside and prepared to leave your bedroom in the hunt for something to eat. The kitchens were your destination, and you traversed the long dark corridor towards the stairs. You weren’t going to wake up Nanna, or the cook, for a simple sandwich that you were capable of making with your own hands. Agnese used to do that, every time, and it was a habit of hers you weren’t fond of. The poor cook deserved his rest after a long day of work. You were sure he had more than enough stress with the visit of a guest, whom Agnese was striving to please.

Never mind that. If Aeneas was to stay, then you’d have to deal with it.

Despite the ostensible emptiness of the house, you knew that there were knights standing guard. Most of them were patrolling outside but, given that it was just an ordinary night, the security was more lax. On your way, you found one of them and he was a little startled to see you— eyeing you nervously, as you approached. When he asked you what you were doing up so late, you explained that you only wished something to eat.

“Very well, miss. Call me if you need anything.”

Your journey finally came to an end as you reached the kitchens, and you made it your mission to prepare a sandwich that would sate your appetite. You had to admit you didn’t know your way around that place very well, as it was mostly foreign territory. Still, it wasn’t that difficult to guess where the ingredients were kept and, soon, you were working towards your goal. Your stay was brief and, once you were done with your meal, you made sure to leave everything the way it was before returning to your chambers for the night.

But when you were climbing the stairs, you heard a noise which had you snapping your head towards it in panic. There was nothing that you could identify as immediate danger, however. Scolding yourself mentally, you tried to shake off that sensation of fear clinging to your skin and resumed your path but, then, the sound of distant footsteps caught your attention.

Another abrupt stop, and you were holding your breath as you looked around. To your dismay, the knight was nowhere to be found in his post downstairs— where did he go, you wondered— so you couldn’t count on him to lend you a hand. Well, perhaps he was the one that had caused those noises but… you had a strange feeling that this pattern of footsteps didn’t belong to him.

You hurried towards the second story, endeavoring to be as quiet and quick as possible. The footsteps persisted for a few seconds and then stopped.

“Sir knight, is that you?” you called, standing at the end of the corridor, but only a whisper of silence answered for him. “Hello?”

Where was that light switch when you needed it? You couldn’t see very well in the darkness, and you struggled to make out a dark silhouette that was apparently standing before a door. What would he even be doing here?

Assuming that it was the knight… and not something else. Which led you to a dreadful realization that made you wish you had remained blissfully unaware.

Were you having hallucinations again?

Walking on the tip of your toes, you huddled against the wall and tried to make yourself as small as possible— hiding from the figments of your own imagination. Deep inside you were afraid of what you would find this time, but you needed to know what was going on. You wanted to see where the lines of reality and delusions blurred. In a sense, you supposed that it turned you into a masochist.

There was something you couldn’t ignore about your surroundings, no matter how hard you tried— something you’d sensed before but didn’t take the time to analyze. It was a patent change in the air, a shift in energy that you began to perceive in every fiber of your being. Without words, it seemed to command your absolute submission and fear whatever being was behind this work of evil.

This couldn’t be a simple illusion… or you didn’t want to contemplate the notion, at least. Better to keep your wits about you, lest you began a descent into a dark place that you certainly didn’t want to see again. With this in mind, you steeled your heart intent on seeking the truth. Maybe that was the reason you didn’t turn back and ran away to the safety of your covers. To be honest, more than once you felt tempted to do so but the other part of you— that which needed answers, whatever they might have been and regardless of how terrifying they could be— wouldn’t surrender so easily despite the odds.

“Stop tormenting me, whatever you are. Begone, foul creature. Sparda compels you!” you hissed just above a whisper, but the shape didn’t budge. “Leave—!”

All of a sudden, muffled laughter drifted in the air and startled you into turning around in a haste. You wouldn’t deny that you were scared, and your reaction wasn’t the most level-headed one.

“Who’s there?” Raising your voice, you found yourself growing more nervous by the moment with no idea what was going on.

So focused were you on your muddled thoughts, and such was your apprehension, that you squeaked like a scared mouse at the echo of a door creaking closed. Your heart skipped a beat, as you gazed at the endless corridor ahead and noticed the dark silhouette had disappeared.

There had to be a logical explanation for this. Or that was your wish, at least. Assuming that it was a person, to begin with. It could have been one of the attendants, but the domestic service didn’t usually linger in this wing of the house at late hours of the night. They had separate accommodations to that effect, and this part of the mansion mostly remained unoccupied except when you had relatives staying and guests—

_Aeneas…_

Oh, well… it was a good possibility, but what was he doing wandering in the dead of the night? Granted you were out of bed, too, but your paranoia was taking over as you identified this behavior as something that could be considered suspicious. Though you needed to take this whole matter with a pinch of salt and try to investigate a bit more, before drawing hasty conclusions.

Something told you that you were going to regret this. Nanna had warned you to keep your distance with him, and you were doing the _opposite_ of that. You supposed there was no danger if you tried to use a stealthy approach, but the silence was so loud that you could hear your own breathing and even your blood rushing with adrenaline. In fact, your sense of hearing seemed to have heightened to unusual levels in your state of trepidation, as you ventured further into the wolf’s lair.

It was funny to think about it. This was your house yet you felt like an intruder, a trespasser that feared to be caught and punished.

You allowed your senses to guide you, your gut doing rapid flips as you pushed forward. This stifling atmosphere was suffocating you and clawed at the walls of your mind, almost as if it wanted to dominate you with mindless fear. Your heart was beating fast, so fast you could hear it pounding in your ears as your body quivered at the uncertainty that was overwhelming you.

But if it had been him… would he not have come forward and said something when you called? Oh, indeed, he could have done such a thing and, had that been his choice, then you would have turned around and gone to your bedroom. However, he chose not to; therefore, he had deliberately attempted to make his presence go unnoticed and you would have liked to know why— what was he hiding.

Most importantly, what if it wasn’t Aeneas? What if it was no one? Regardless of your attempts to impose order in your thoughts, you’d come full circle at the starting point.

“I will fear no evil. Even if I walk in dark and desolate places, He will protect me. The Lord is my Savior, my sword and shield. He will not forsake me,” you mumbled to reassure yourself. It was a good time as any to commend your soul to Him.

You definitely were a masochist, weren’t you? Who in their right mind would put themselves through this psychological torture at will?

As you approached one of the rooms, you took notice of the muffled noises coming from within. It was the library— you recognized those double doors— nothing glaringly suspicious about it, but this wasn’t the most appropriate time to do some study.

You tried to search for a shred of light at the bottom but it was dark, though that didn’t exactly mean there was no one inside. It could be Aeneas, but for all you knew he could have also been fast asleep and you were accusing him of some absurd conspiracy. In cases such as this, you had to give him the benefit of the doubt at the very least.

However, when you stood by the door, the noises stopped altogether and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Stepping closer, still on the tip of your toes, your hand grazed the wood and you pressed your ear against it, trying to hear something. _Anything._

There was only silence from the other side.

Slowly, you let out the breath you’d been holding and gulped the knot in your throat. If this was a game your mind was playing with you, then you found no fun or joy in it.

You were overcome by a sense of dejá vu and remembered what had happened that night when you saw the cloaked stranger. The situation had been similar to this! You didn’t know what was happening anymore. Was it man? Demon? A vision? You had no idea what you were dealing with, at this point, and that scared you even more.

You drew away and took a few steps back, trying to put your mind at ease. But just as you thought about turning back and leaving for good, you felt something grab a hold of your shoulder— causing you to squeal in mindless fright. You probably jumped several feet in the air, so high that it felt as if your soul had left your body— never to return again.

“Miss, it’s alright. Fear not!”

Once you were able to calm down, and have a better look at the owner of the voice, you stared into the brown eyes of a young man. It didn’t take you long to identify him as the knight you had come across with a while ago, before heading to the kitchens. He stood in front of you, wearing an expression of awkwardness at your overreaction, a little flushed and out of breath too— which made you take notice of the dim lights that revealed his features.

Needless to say, you were angry that he had sneaked upon you like that and almost scared you to death.

“Sparda, take me away!” you managed to utter with a shaky voice, clutching your chest as you drew in shaky breaths. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

“Forgive me. It was not my intention to frighten you, miss, but I called and you gave no answer. I wondered if you were in need of anything, since I heard your voice.”

He sounded genuinely regretful, and your expression softened at his words. It occurred to you that you’d strayed from your course, and he was only making sure that nothing bad had happened. Of course you didn’t want to tell him of the strange noises that led you here. You suffered enough embarrassment, when you claimed there had been an intruder in your house, that you preferred not to disclose any details. Instead, you made up a lie.

“I think I got a little disoriented for a moment. My mind is still a bit fuzzy, after that unfortunate incident at the quay.”

How weird it must have been for him to see you  walk down the corridor, alone in the dead of the night, muttering some gibberish under your breath, before stopping to press your ear against a random door. You probably looked like a lunatic in his eyes, and you wouldn’t blame him for that.

“I see.” He nodded in understanding and then looked down, crossing his arms behind his back. “Miss, I’m in no position to tell you what to do, but it would be advisable to return to your bedroom. It’s late, and you need your rest to recover soon.”

That was your cue to leave. You threw a dubious glance to the door, but then shook any thoughts on playing detective for the time being and gave the man a forced smile.

“Thank you, I will. Goodnight, sir knight.”

Rushing to your chambers, you tried to disregard certain ideas forming in the back of your mind and prepared yourself for bed as though nothing had happened. You weren’t planning on telling Nanna, either way, so as not to put unnecessary distress on her.

After cleansing your teeth and brushing your hair, you climbed under the sheets and gazed at the ceiling for a long time. Then closed your eyes and willed yourself to fall into a fitful dream.

* * *

Dawn broke, and with it a new day came.

Too bad you hadn’t slept very well, and it showed on your face— to Nanna’s consternation. As expected from her, she nagged you until you confessed that you’d stayed reading until late.

She raised her hands in the air, as a manner of prayer, and you couldn’t help but chuckle in spite of her dramatic moment.

“Sparda, give me patience with this child.”

“Don’t be so exaggerated, Nanna. It will be fine.” You sipped the warm honeyed milk from the cup in your hands. You were having breakfast in your bedroom, and it made you think of how inconvenient it must have been for others to bring your meals there. Hopefully, you wouldn’t have to stay here any longer. “I could not sleep last night, so I thought doing something else would help. I didn’t realize that it was so late.”

“I swear, (Y/N), if you don't—”

“I said it will be fine. Stop worrying so much, please.” As you snuggled on the settee by the window, you gazed outside to the gardens below and sighed. “Is it not a beautiful day? I would like to go to the gardens this morning. You don’t have to accompany me, of course. I just wish to have a moment… please?”

Nanna stared with hands on her hips, as if trying to intimidate you, but in the end she gave in. “Very well, but finish your breakfast first otherwise I’m not letting you out of this room. Look at your scrawny constitution… it’s unacceptable! And you will eat all your food today, no complaints.”

“Alright. I will, for you dear Nanna,” you said to placate her spirits and offered her your best smile.

Once you’d finished your meal, she helped you dress and braided your hair. Thank goodness no corset for you, only a loose dress to wear at home. You feared asking her if you were attending mass any time soon, but you guessed since you were recovering you wouldn’t be able to travel to the business district. That was, if Agnese still allowed you to leave the estate, at all.

After you told Nanna that you’d remain close to the house, should she need you, you were on your way downstairs. You didn’t want to remain confined in your bedroom, and Leoni hadn’t specifically said that you couldn’t go out and enjoy the day for a little while. In the meantime, you could pick a book to read or do revision for your lessons. Classes with your tutors had been suspended until further notice, so you needed to find some form of entertainment to keep your mind occupied with more productive thoughts.

Grabbing your notes, you dropped by the library and decided to fetch some reading material to complement your studies on biology. Once you found it, you headed to the hall where the butler greeted you.

“Good morning, miss (Y/N). I didn’t expect to see you up so soon. How are you feeling today?”

“Good morning, Livio!” you greeted back with a cheerful mood, as you reached the bottom of the stairs. “I’m feeling much better, thank you. How are you today?”

“I am quite well, miss. Thank you,” the older man said, bowing his head.

Looking around, you realized that the house was too quiet and wondered where Agnese might have been. “Where is my mother? Is she in town?”

“Indeed, miss. She left at the usual hour this morning but still hasn’t returned.”

You probably wouldn’t be allowed to do the same in a while. Knowing her, she would argue that the world was too dangerous a place for you and, in a way, maybe she was right. It was evident to her that you couldn’t take care of yourself, so the most obvious measure was for you to be confined at home for your own safety.

“If mother asks, tell her I will be in the gardens.”

She could let you have that as consolation, no? This wasn’t to say you were angry at her. There was no justifiable motive for you to blame her decisions on account of your irresponsible actions, neither did you want to argue about them. You’d only be making a fool of yourself in front of her.

“Of course, miss.”

Waving your hand in farewell, you took your leave and crossed the threshold into the terrace that preceded the softer grounds covered in grass. Descending the white stone steps, you thought of seeking a comfortable place to shelter yourself from the sun— namely the gazebo where you’d spent time with Nanna the previous day, and your favorite spot throughout the years. You would have been lucky, if it wasn’t for the fact that someone else had claimed it before you had the chance.

You didn’t even have to guess who it was. Those locks of snow-white hair gave away the identity of the man that occupied your intended place, and you immediately knew that you’d come across none other than Aeneas. He was seated in one of the snug armchairs— foot propped over the opposite thigh, whilst an open book rested on his lap— lazily holding a glass of what you could identify as red wine in his hand. A rather self-assured and conceited posture for someone who wasn’t in his own house, you noted. Also, was it not a little too early to be drinking alcohol? Your only hope was that your mother wasn’t housing a dipsomaniac, but what did you know.

Aeneas seemed to be deep in thought, staring off into the blue sky in the horizon with a pensive frown— unaware of your presence or purposefully ignoring it. You bid him good morning once you were close enough, but your greeting went unanswered. Not what you were expecting. At the very least, you would have thought that he had some manners to speak of but you didn’t let it bother you too much.

In all honesty, you were annoyed that he got to keep that spot but you wouldn’t fight him over a matter so trivial— it was a stupid excuse. Either way, you didn’t want to linger in his presence so you decided that you’d retire somewhere else to be alone and sulk. It was quite apparent he didn’t make for enjoyable company, and you had no intention to see if he could prove you wrong. Actually, you shuddered at the thought of it despite the summer heat.

You walked farther away and settled under the shade of another gazebo, by the side of a small pond. Marble sculptures of classic design— artworks of the artists that Agnese had so graciously endorsed— lined up on the sidewalk, decked with colorful tulips. The green meadows extended towards the forest beyond and, diverting your gaze just a little, you could observe the cliff and old ruins overlooking the sea in the distance. It was said to be the place where numerous maidens were sacrificed to an old god, former lord of these lands.

Despite having lived here for many years, you’d never visited those remains. It was forbidden to go deep into the forest without any protection, and you doubted that Agnese would allow you to visit the Cliff of the Maiden— considering the terrible tales that surrounded it.

Though it would appear the opposite, yours wasn’t a morbid curiosity. It was not your attraction to such a macabre story that piqued your interest, but what your father had once told you about a rare and extraordinary occurrence.

_“Once a year, you can see the stars of the night sky in the sea.”_

Many lights gathered at the coasts for a few nights, before vanishing. Of course these weren’t an inexplicable phenomenon, at least not anymore. They were sea fireflies, although popular beliefs once had it that they were the tears of the unfortunate maidens devoured by the terrifying snake of the seas.

Father had gone to the cliff, when he was younger, and he told you that the view of the sea fireflies was magnificent; a true spectacle worthy of witnessing in a lifetime. One day, he would take you there… but it was a promise he couldn’t keep because he was gone.

And, in all probability, you would d never see it.

* * *

After a while, you considered it was time to return. The sun was high, and you surmised it would be noon soon. Thank goodness that Nanna had forced you to apply sunscreen, and wear a wide-brimmed summer hat, because the walk back was longer than you would have liked.

When you approached the gazebo Aeneas had been at earlier, you noticed that he was already gone but you didn’t particularly care to know where he could be. Or maybe you should have, seeing as his presence wasn’t something you could readily ignore. Though you couldn’t prove anything as of yet— neither were you certain of what to look for— there was this lingering sensation that something was wrong with him.

You knew that you were being unreasonable, and even prejudiced, but you still didn’t feel at ease around him neither with the idea of sharing the same space. Your energies seemed to clash; they were not in harmony, so to speak. It was hard to explain but, maybe, it could be best described as this hunch that one sometimes wouldn’t get along with certain people… and, quite often, it was for a good reason.

Better to keep your eyes and ears open.

“Welcome back, miss (Y/N). How was your stay in the gardens?” Livio greeted you at the threshold, when you finally made it to the stone steps.

“It was… quite relaxing, I suppose,” you droned with lassitude, not very eager to make small talk.

“Perhaps a cool drink will invigorate the young miss? After walking a distance under the sun, no doubt you need it.”

“Is that… for me?” Your mouth felt dry once your eyes lay on the large glass with soft creamy liquid, sitting on the tray in his hand. Regardless of your efforts to hide your sudden craving, you were ogling that smoothie like your life depended on it and you could tell that, beneath that solemn mask Livio wore, he was amused at the silly expression of longing on your face.

“Indeed.”

Obviously, he had anticipated your arrival since he was waiting for you with your prize— which you tried not to down with desperate chugs, in spite of the Atacama desert that your throat had become. Had Aeneas not claimed _your_ gazebo first, you could have enjoyed the wonders of this ambrosia much sooner.

It took you some time to speak, and you heaved a contented sigh when you finished your drink. “That was delicious, thank you!”

“I am glad you found it to your taste.”

“Has my mother returned yet?”

“Yes, miss. She is in her chambers resting, at the moment. Lunch will be ready soon, so perhaps you would like to refresh beforehand?”

“Yes, I would like that.” You smiled, contemplating the idea of a shower and a change of clothes.

“Will you be joining your lady mother today, or would you prefer for your meal to be delivered to your room?”

“I will have lunch with my mother. Thank you.”

“Very well, then. Shall I carry those books for you, miss?”

Shaking your head, you made sure to let him know that it would be no problem. “Do not worry, Livio. It’s not that heavy a weight and I can manage just fine on my own. Besides, I will need them later.”

Your desk would soon be a mess, no doubt, and it would be a miracle that you could even find anything.

When you climbed the stairs, you were surprised to cross paths with Aeneas again— going the opposite direction. From what you could see, his expression was apathetic, devoid of any joviality, and there seemed to be an ominous shadow looming over him as he descended with firm steps. The echo of his unhurried but steady tread made you slow down and, for a moment, you were transported back to the strange events of last night.

_What an odd coincidence…_

Except that it could not be.

Giving him a pointed look as he approached, you arched an eyebrow at the thought forming in your mind. Certainly you wouldn’t be one to police the behavior of others, but you couldn’t vouch for the actions of this man.

Aeneas had freshened up, if his damp but well groomed hair and different clothes were of any indication. There even was the faint fragrance of lavender and peppermint emanating from him, so it was easy to imagine that he had taken a liking to baths with scented oils.

You regarded him with reservations, waiting to see if he would say something. Maybe he actually didn’t hear you the first time and, to test this theory, you decided to greet him again. To be honest, you weren’t actually trying to strike an entertaining conversation. It was meant to be a polite gesture, nothing more.

Again, he didn’t make any efforts to acknowledge your presence; merely walked past you without as much as a single word. This time, you were taken aback by his slight since it was unthinkable for a gentleman to behave in such an unbecoming fashion with a lady. You didn’t think you’d done anything inappropriate that merited this rude treatment, so you couldn’t understand his actions. However, it didn’t help to improve your opinion on him.

What an uncouth man!

“So vulgar and hateful,” you grumbled under your breath as you stomped to your chambers, feeling your dislike for Aeneas grow.

But soon you would find out that your aversion could only become stronger.

During lunch, Agnese was put to shame when her so called 'guest of honor’ was nowhere to be seen. In a way, it made you happy that you wouldn’t have to see his face, but his lack of consideration left much to be desired.

“What about Aeneas?” she had asked, rather confused and irked, as she was served the first course.

Livio shifted in his spot and exchanged an uneasy glance with the cook, before he replied. “Regrettably, Mr. Aeneas will not be able to join the lady and the young miss today. He seemed to be… very busy in the library when I spoke to him and sends his deepest apologies, my lady.”

Apologies? You were beginning to doubt he even knew how to do that.

Agnese looked disappointed, but she soon covered up her morose expression with an attitude of casual dismissal. “Oh, well, perhaps we should leave him be. I have (Y/N) to keep me company, anyways.”

You were bristling on the inside. Never mind that he had slighted you first, but doing so to the mistress that had generously put her home at his disposal was unacceptable. Rejecting an invitation to participate in a meal, while he was a guest in someone else’s house, and for such petty reasons, wasn’t something that one could easily overlook.

You and Agnese said a small prayer in thanks. In the seclusion of your thoughts, you asked Sparda that this man would leave soon because you were’t sure you could live together under the same roof.

You had no wish to, either.

Trying to make some trivial conversation to dissipate the awkwardness of the moment, you turned to Agnese with a smile. “If I may ask, mother, how was your trip to the business district?”

She eyed you with suspicion but made no comment on your question, although you could tell she didn’t wish to say much on the matter.

“Business, as usual. Nothing you should be worried about, my dear.”

Your smile fell a little at her answer, and you gazed into your food— eating mostly in silence for the rest of lunch.

* * *

Tomorrow you would resume lessons with your tutors, Agnese informed you out of nowhere at some point of the meal. When it dawned on you what she had said, you began to panic a little since you still had pending assignments— and it would be in your best interests to get them done before dusk.

You needed to focus on algebra and finishing an essay on the downfall of the Roman Empire but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find one of the volumes you were supposed to read.

You asked Nanna if she’d seen it, by any chance, but she had no idea what you were talking about. Maybe you had left it somewhere downstairs, and it was placed in the wrong library.

Oh, this day kept getting better and better. Now you had to waste precious time that you could be spending writing the essay, instead of hunting for that blasted tome. In all honesty, you could have probably tried to make something up but you preferred not to be reprimanded, or punished, for not paraphrasing the book. It didn’t matter to them whether you were knowledgeable in a topic or not. They wanted you to read the texts, so you had to do as you were told.

Where could it be?

Of course, the most obvious place to begin your search was the library. But there was this particular location that made you a little restless— as it was the one where you’d heard strange noises coming from, the previous night

Whether it was Aeneas or not, you couldn’t deny there was something disturbing about this occurrence. Just thinking about it made you shiver, and you could feel that same fear crawl on your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Why couldn’t you get rid of this sensation that was beginning to exasperate you beyond belief?

Enough of this. You needed that book and you were going to get it.

However, you had yet another none too pleasant surprise when you opened the door and walked inside. Your first thought was a resounding _'why_ _?’_ , accompanied by a _'he’s everywhere!’_ , though you managed to keep your mouth shut. Truly, you weren’t expecting to find him here neither did you look forward to seeing him again. Sometimes it felt as though this house was too small for the two of you, because that day you kept encountering him at every turn— to your utter discontent.

Certain thoughts lingered, but you chose not to inquire any further in the face of insufficient proof to back up your claims.

“Good afternoon.” Your words were curt as you spoke. Deep down, you weren’t even waiting for a response— just looking for an excuse to argue and let out your frustration.

Unsurprisingly, this was the third time he didn’t respond or acknowledged you. You shouldn’t have been that irritated, given how predictable were his actions, but his lack of manners and grandiose sense of self-worth was beginning to get on your nerves.

So you let him know.

“Excuse me but, by any chance, are you mute or deaf? I don’t recall my mother using sign language to speak with you.”

It was a rhetorical question. You knew his ability for speech wasn’t impaired, and he could hear you as well, but perhaps sarcasm was a language of which he had a better understanding.

The white-haired man slowly tore his gaze away from the pages of the book in his hands and stared at you. For a moment, he gave the impression to be debating whether you were worthy of his time or not. Or he thought he could try to intimidate you with that sharp look. In another situation, you could have been daunted but you were too irritated to feel that way.

After a while, Aeneas finally deigned himself to speak.

“As you may appreciate, I am not. Hopefully, you have satisfied your curiosity,” he stated with a flat and slightly nasal voice. _Strange_. One would have thought there was sufficient airflow going through those big nostrils, if his nose made up for a quarter of his face.

His pronunciation had a slight accent to it but he spoke with decent fluency, nevertheless. Aeneas was foreign, of course; not from this region. You recalled Nanna saying that he hailed from the United States and you had to say, if all Americans were anything like him, you were not impressed.

With a grunt of derision, he returned to his reading material without a pinch of self-consciousness or remorse. It was as though he hadn’t even detected the irony in your words or, as it was your belief, didn’t care the slightest about them.

“Oh, I have, indeed! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to pass judgment on your character. I found it _most_ insightful.”

At least you knew what you were dealing with.

“You dare to make presumptions about me, based on a few words?” His blue eyes flashed a glare that had you smiling on the inside.

Your gaze strayed to the bookcase as you paced around the room, intent on showing him that he wouldn’t make you feel belittled in spite of his efforts.

“Oh, it’s that simple. When it comes to the likes of you, I do not believe much else is needed.”

The scrunch of his nose was hard to miss, even as he tried to remain indifferent to your remark. “You’re too impertinent for a young girl.”

“And you’re too arrogant for a man who wants to appear as charitable and selfless, even when your disposition proves otherwise.”

A pregnant silence followed, as you stared at each other from opposite sides of the room. The dull sound of the fans that spun above, dispersing the afternoon heat, was the only thing that disturbed the taciturnity of this tense moment. It was more than evident that he was assessing you without any shame, his gaze sweeping your form from head to toes. Being under the scrutiny of that piercing gaze was uncomfortable, you had to admit it, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you withdraw.

Unfortunately, there was a sudden knock on the door so it was a lost contest the moment you got distracted and looked away. Yet, to your relief, his attention too had been diverted and you didn’t have to feel embarrassed at your startle.

After another knock, it became obvious that he wasn’t going to say anything so you took it upon yourself to respond.

“Come in.” You only hoped it wasn’t Nanna looking for you… or Agnese— though that was very unlikely. Soon enough, she would be gathering with guests and having a merry time herself.

In walked a young maid, Ofelia, carrying a tray in her hands. Her brown eyes widened a little and she came to a halt, upon taking notice of your presence.

“Oh.” She lowered her gaze, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Being caught alone with this man was an awkward situation, but you were guilty of nothing. You didn’t even want to cross paths with him.

“You interrupted nothing. Rest easy,” you reassured her.

Ofelia nodded before stepping further inside, in Aeneas’s direction. “Sir, I brought you something to eat and the wine you—”

“I want nothing,” he grumbled, clearly upset, not even bothering to say thanks. “Take it away.”

Somehow, he was beginning to remind you of Agnese when she was in a bad mood.

The maid looked at him with confused awe, then threw a glance your way... unsure. It felt as though she was waiting for you to give her further instructions, or silently asking for your help. To be honest, even you were dubious of what to do given your second-hand embarrassment. At least, the charming effect Aeneas had on her was starting to wear off. Thank goodness.

“Does the young miss wish for anything?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I will soon be on my way out, either way.”

“Very well. Excuse me, then. Miss. Sir.” She fetched the empty glass sitting on the table, by Aeneas’s side, then made a quick curtsy and took her leave. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It was enough to deal with Agnese’s mood swings, but at least she was getting paid well for it— not that it could justify such a thankless job.

Once she had closed the door behind her, you crossed your arms and glared at Aeneas in reproach. “Could you be more haughty and childish, I wonder?”

“What do you want?” His annoyance and disgust were becoming more difficult to conceal, yet that didn’t stop you. Maybe then he would change his mind and go away.

“From you? I only expected a little courtesy, but that seems to surpass your most basic capabilities.” If he wanted to impose a vitriolic attitude around others, then he would get the same from you. “As for the reason I am here…” Approaching the bookcase, you let your fingers graze the leather spines and dedicated enough time to give the pretense your visit wasn’t unjustified. “I’m in search of a certain tome. Do not flatter yourself thinking that I was looking for you.”

Being an attractive man, he must have been under the false belief that every woman in this house sought his attention. As if!

“I would not consider it flattering, _at all_ ,” Aeneas deadpanned, and you resisted the urge to growl.

This man had such a way of ruffling your feathers that you were beginning to loathe him in less than half an hour— an accomplishment in itself. It wasn’t so much his insult but the way he could keep his composed demeanor, and even have the gall to retort with such nonchalance, that made you so bitter.

Gritting your teeth, you practically snatched some random book from the shelf and turned around to meet his conceited expression. The smugness showed at the corner of his lips, barely but it was present, mocking you. 

It was foolishness to try and strike a confrontation with him, but you would not tolerate his affront.

“You may have convinced my mother and this whole household that you’re a hero, but even a hero loses his charm when he has no charisma and kindness.”

“You must be mistaken, somehow; I never said that I was one. My guess is that you have read too many fairy tales about chivalrous knights and princesses. I would suggest that you attain to realistic expectations of the world, lest you are disappointed.”

Ignoring his last words, you pushed the conversation back at him. “You’re no hero, that is true. Yet you have no qualms in taking advantage of the high opinion others have of you, even if that reverence is undeserved.”

“You claim I deserve no respect, yet you stand today with that defying attitude— blathering nonstop— thanks to me. Is this the way to show gratitude to someone who has saved your life, by attacking them and irritating them to the point of aggravation? Perhaps I should have left you to drown in the sea and given you a real reason to complain about. From the afterlife, of course.”

Spoken like a true gentleman!

“My, what a curious sense of humor you have! If gratitude and recognition is what you care about, then make no mistake. I’m certainly grateful that you have come to my rescue that day, but let us make something clear. That does not mean I’ll become blind to your rudeness and obsequious to your patronizing ways. If you were hoping for me to bow down and kiss your well-polished shoes, as you revel in the comfort of my own house, I’m afraid I will have to disappoint you.”

Aeneas was ready to retaliate but, oh no, you wouldn’t allow him to have the last word in this argument.

“I may have to excuse your behavior, on this occasion. I’m sure that all the wine you had today has dulled your thinking, and you actually didn’t mean anything of what you’ve said. Not to fret, though, as I forgive you. However, from now on, you should be more careful with your intake of alcohol. It’s bad for your health and… people may start talking, too.” His stoic expression betrayed nothing, but you could see that his eyes blistered with rage as he tried to keep his breathing even. It was all you needed to have a small taste of victory and, before walking out of the door, you turned to give him a bright faked smile. “Have a good day, sir.”

You were certain that if he could shoot daggers from his eyes, he would have stabbed you to death right then but you didn’t care what he thought or whether he found you agreeable. To you, he was nothing more than a shady, arrogant, condescending, pompous moron that you needed to keep an eye on.

The gates of hell would sooner open again than you would change your opinion on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, would you look at that? Vergil is still our lovable jerk and I think I managed not to butcher his character. Too much, at least?
> 
> Well, emm… Vergil drinking? It sounds weird, but it was a joke making reference to textsfromdmc in Tumblr, where Vergil is often portrayed as a guy with alcohol issues for funsies (well, pretty much everyone has alcohol issues). Seriously, after going through all those terrible things I would also need a drink. Plus, in the first novel Gilver drank a lot of booze in a contest with Dante, but he couldn’t stand his alcohol so he lost consciousness and was robbed by the patrons (if you can believe it? What a loser lol). I should hope he’s more resistant here!
> 
> In a way, I imagine Nero’s parents like Sims. I could literally see the minus signs popping out of their heads while they interacted. As you can imagine, it’s going to be more of an antagonistic relationship— at least in the beginning. I mean, it’s Vergil… he’s an a**hole. And he has a big nose. Just check it out.
> 
> So what do you think of the story so far? Comments are appreciated! See ya next time ♥


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